Silent Hill: Adam & Eve
by AlexK86
Summary: Adam and Eve wake to find themselves in a hospital in Silent Hill (AU). With no memory of how they got there, they traverse the city, searching for answers. As they progress they become entangled in the lives of the people they encounter. SH: A&E contains elements of horror, mystery, romance, erotica, and drama. Plz! REVIEW/FOLLOW/FAV. Rated T-M:Gore, Sex, Language
1. Chapter 1: Adam's Prologue

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter I: This is only a short prologue to the story. This story will contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**PART ONE**

**I.**

Heavy, black clouds hang low over a thick, vast forest. The clouded canopy stretches right to the horizon, blocking out all sunlight. Rocky hills rise up from the forest in sporadic patterns. The wind howls with intermittent, violent gusts. Faintly, the sounds of the tides crashing against the rocky shore rumble on the periphery. The whole atmosphere seems to be charged with an ominous energy.

A black sedan speeds down a narrow highway. The road curves left and slopes upwards as the sedan reaches the base of a mountain. Continuing at a reckless speed, the sedan races out of the forest onto a mountainside roadway. On the right, the tide crashes against the jagged, rocky shore; on the left, the mountains rise skyward in an impenetrable flat wall. Higher and higher, the road inclines at a steep angle. Swerving left, than right - along the winding road - the black sedan veers within inches of a rusted metal guardrail.

As the first clasp of thunder cuts across the horizon, the road bends between two mountains. The vehicle turns sharply to make the abrupt turn, wheels screeching slightly. Now, in a narrow opening, the mountains seem to close over the highway and the black sedan is plunged into total darkness. The high-beams come on, but seem to be swallowed in the shadows. A raging thunderstorm begins. Reverberating in this cavernous roadway the thunder swells and builds in a roaring cacophony. The wind howls and moans around the speeding car.

This darkened passageway continues for some time as the road becomes more narrow. Trees and shrubs stretch out from the mountainside, bearing down on the road with crooked, outstretched limbs. The road begins to arch upward again. The passageway becomes so narrow that there is no longer enough room for two cars to pass. The headlights shining through the trees as the car speeds along seems to animate the shadows, like wild, emaciated dancers. The arch evens out again and the end of the passage becomes visible in the distance. Two successive flashes of lightning strike outside the opening.

Finally, the mountains open and a heavy downpour is falling on the road. Still the sedan speeds onward, winding round the mountain overlooking a precipitous, 40-foot drop into the valley below. Thick vegetation covers the valley and the mountains around on this side, unlike the barren mountains before.

Inside the black sedan, Adam grips the steering wheel, knuckles white with tension. Tears are streaming down his face. He clenches his teeth and curses under his breath. Falling heavily on the hood of his car, the rain drowns out his words. The windshield wipers swing back and forth but the road ahead appears distorted being all recognition. Adam grabs his head, then slams his hand on the steering wheel.

As the road straightens out, Adam leans forward and presses his head against the steering wheel. A clap of thunder cuts through the din around him. Suddenly, Adam hears the faint sound of static from his radio. An incomprehensible mix of static and garbled voices, like a radio tuning between two stations. He grabs the volume knob and turns it all the way down, but to no affect.

There's a flash of lightning and a deafening clap of thunder. To Adam's disbelief the radio begins to get louder. He begins hitting all the buttons but his radio only grows louder and louder. Voices jump forth from the static. Distorted voices. Almost as though they are in reverse.

A deep boom of thunder rattles the car. Now, Adam hears agonised shrieking. The radio climbs to a painful volume, with warped garbled voices, hoarse shrieking, and a roaring, colossal wall of static. Adam strikes out at the radio again and again. The dissonance from the radio becomes so loud it feels as though drums are going to burst.

"Stop! Stop!"

A flash of lightning.

Adam snaps his head up. The figure of a woman appears in the road. Adam tacks hard left. The car swerves, narrowly missing the woman. Skidding uncontrollably, tires squealing, the sedan slams full-speed into the side of the mountain, windows bursting outward in a hail of glass. Adam lies motionless, slumped over the steering wheel. The hood of the car is twisted and crumpled up like paper. Smoke rises up from the engine.

Broken glass surrounds the black sedan, shimmering like thousands of diamonds. The downpour falls on the roof of the car, producing a deep, hypnotic rumbling. Inside the vehicle, the blaring discord begins to decline, dropping in large, swooping steps. The static falls to the radio's minimum volume, an almost inaudible whisper, and then cuts out entirely.

A few feet ahead the rain pours down on a faded wooden sign. The sign reads:

"Welcome To Silent Hill."


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome to Silent Hill

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter II: The second chapter introduces the world and a couple characters. There isn't too much action, yet, as I'm still "setting up the story". This chapter will contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**II.**

Adam wakes to darkness. As his eyes adjust he sees that he is in a large, open room. Their are dozens of beds around him, separated by curtains. _A hospital_. Adam props himself up on his bed. All around him he hears the rhythmic beeping of cardiac monitors.

"Hello?" Adam calls out, to no answer. "Hello" he repeats, louder this time; but, again, to no reply. Adam turns his head to his own monitor which beeps at a regular pace. He's dressed in his regular clothes: a grey dress shirt and a pair of faded jeans. Even his boots are on: black, scuffed, ankle-high work boots. Lying on a chair next to his bed is his jacket. A black leather jacket with a pair of horizontal white stripes around the upper arms.

Feeling groggy, he sits upright and runs his hands over his face. As he pull his hand away he notices a hospital bracelet around his wrist. Leaning closer to the monitor, he strains to read his bracelet in its glow. _Adam._ Analysing the monitor closer, he sees his name is also written on the a moment, the name seems unfamiliar, but he soon feels a deep emotional connection - sensing that it it, in fact his name. Below his name, another line reads, "Date of Admission: 07/10/86". _July 10th, 1986._

Apart from his name, he can't remember anything. Not his job, nor his age. Sitting motionless, he struggle to remember his parents, his brothers or sister. Nothing. He's all the more confused by his inexplicable environment.

Closing his eyes momentarily, he squints hard and shakes his head. He looks around the room. _Desolate_. Reaching up under his shirt, Adam pulls out the cords of the cardiac monitor.

"What the hell?" he says aloud.

The spikes and dips on the monitor continue as if they were still connected to a patient. Adam gets up off his bed, puts on his jacket and walks out into the aisle between the beds. The whole room, ostensibly an intensive care unit or an ER, is dark. The only source of light is the pale glow coming from the cardiac monitors, and a faint orange light coming in through the windows. As he walks down the aisle he glances into the cubicles to see if there are any other patients around. Inexplicably, the cardiac monitors by each bed seem to be malfunctioning. Most of them are beeping as though they are connected to a living person. Only a few are flatlining.

"Hello," Adam calls out, "Is there anybody in here?".

Now, Adam is overcome with a sense of apprehension and fear. _What kind of hospital puts a man in intensive care and leaves his street clothes on? Where are all the patients? The doctors? Why are the lights out? Why are the monitors all screwed up?_

Adam walks down the aisle to a pair of double doors. He gives them a push. They won't budge. At the top of the door the latch is secured with a padlock. Adam sighs and leans up against the door. From here he can see that the room is larger than he'd originally thought. There are five rows of beds with four-foot aisles between them. It's too dark to see all the way to the opposite wall.

Suddenly, Adam hears a faint sound off in the darkness. Taking two steps forward he strains to hear. Another faint sound. And another. _Sounds like footsteps... like bare feet on the concrete._ Waking across the aisles, Adam looks across the room; but to no avail. The sound stops. At the last row Adam begins to walk up the aisle, as quietly as he can. As he passes each partition he glances at the beds, each one empty, each one with cardiac monitors tracking non-existent heartbeats.

The sound starts again, this time nearby. Bare feet shuffling over the concrete floor. And now, with every step, there's an accompanying sound. Clicks and pops, like cracking knuckles or dislocating joints. The sound sends shivers down Adam's spine and he's suddenly overcome with the feeling that he is in imminent danger. He starts looking around for something to defend himself with, but the cubicles are all empty barring the monitors and beds. The foot steps are shuffling just around the corner on the other side of a row of beds. Adam makes one last desperate attempt to look around for some sort of weapon, but there's nothing.

Now, for the first time, Adam sees the person he's been searching for as a woman's figure steps out from behind a bedside curtain. It's too dark to make much out, but she appears to be wearing a veil which comes down around her head and closes over her breast; and, with it, a modest, close-fitting dress which goes down to the floor. The whole ensemble resembles that of a nun. So much so as to relieve Adam's fears momentarily; but as she begins to walk toward him it becomes apparent that something is horribly wrong. Her limbs move in unnatural, jerky, almost robotic movements, making wet snapping and popping sounds with each step.

"Stay back please," Adam says raising a stern hand toward his assailant, but then it closes in on him faster like a predator moving in on its prey. He sees there is something in its hand. _A knife_. The thing raises the knife high above it's head…

It swings down at Adam. He catches it's wrist. It's other arm reaches over his shoulder pulling him close and forcing its knife downward with surprising strength. Adam bends back. Spinning round he throws his assailant against the wall. He throws two quick knees into its stomach. Heaving backwards he throws the thing to the floor with brute force. Adam jumps on top of it and pins down its knife hand, then its free hand.

"Hey!" he yells, "What the fuck do you th -"

Adam freezes. A vague orange light coming in through a window shines faintly on the woman on the floor. Adam strains to see, but cannot believe his eyes. _There's no face_. Instead, undefined bumps and and dips where the features should be. No eyes. Only a slight bump where a nose should be. No mouth. Horror and disgust wash over him.

Now, gripped with a mad terror, Adam releases the creatures free hand. Pulling his fist back he begins beating the creature with furious, primal blows. Swinging wildly, he lays into the creature as it let's out agonised feminine moans with each strike. The face begins caving inwards. Then with the twelfth blow his fist sinks into the creatures soft skull, blood spattering onto Adam's face.

Adam rolls sideways off the creature and begins wrenching as though he is about to puke, but stops. Crawling several feet from the creature, but never taking his eyes off of it, he lies on his side - facing it - and pulls his hands tight to his chest. The creature's left leg twitches for a few seconds, then stops.

_Is this some nightmare? Have I gone mad?_

But he knows it can't be. Everything is too visceral, to tactile. He can feel his heart beating in his chest, the warm wet blood on his fist. He lies there motionless for several minutes, too shocked to think or cry or scream. Finally, he gets up, drawn by morbid curiosity. He grabs the creature and drags it to a better lit spot.

_Nothing about this is right._

The shape of the creature's body give the resemblance of a clothed figure, but it's all the same greyish colour. The whole body has the same rubbery, flesh-like texture; and there are no seams where the clothing ends. The veil, upon closer inspection, is more like a fleshy hood. Its caved-in skull has no organs, no brain, just blood and tissue. The knife in its hand is not a knife at all. It's a dull, metallic cross, sharpers to a point at the end. Now lifeless, the creature seems to embody a chaste, virginal woman.

For some time Adam analyses the body with a combination of terror, fascination, and revulsion.

_I have to get out of this place. Maybe this horrific dream will end._

Making his way down to the only corner of the room he hadn't been to, Adam comes to a reception area, with a long L-shaped desk separating a small work area. On the wall behind the desk a large wooden crucifix hangs, tilted, facing down at the desk. Adam climbs over the desk and starts searching the desktop for anything of use or interest.

Everything in the hospital is dusty, rusted, faded, or dirty. It looks modern, and yet at the same time it has the appearance of a room long abandoned. An electric typewriter and scattered papers sit on the desktop. Adam pushes them aside. Nothing on the desktop seems to be of any relevance. He turns around to see a row of filing cabinets against the wall. They are lettered alphabetically. Moving to the leftmost cabinet, Adam opens the first drawer. There are a dozen or more folders inside, with names on the tabs. Patient files. _It would take weeks to go through all these files._ Going back to the desk, Adam starts to check the drawers. Opening the second drawer from the top, He finds an unlabelled brass key. _Could this be for the door? _

Turning to his right, Adam catches his reflection in the dusty, chrome plating of a square pillar at the corner of the desk. He sees himself staring back, eyes still wide with wild terror. He's a man of striking good looks. A square jaw and chiseled features. Short, light-brown hair, parted neatly on one side. Pale green eyes. His face clean-shaven. Adam has the appearance of a man who is compassionate, respectable, noble, self-assured and trustworthy. The sort of person you would immediately take a liking to, and be inclined to respect. Though those traits are marred by his current expression of horror.

It's at this point that Adam notices the specks of blood on his face. Slipping an arm out from his jacket he uses his shirtsleeve to wipe the spots from his face as best as he can. Then, seeing the blood covering his hand, tries to wipe it off on the side of his shirt. This proves less successful, wiping more blood on his shirt than off his hand.

Putting the key in his pocket Adam climbs back over the desk and makes his way back to the double-doors. Much to his relief, the key fits in the lock and Adam pushes the doors open into the main corridor.

To his right, Adam sees the main entrance to the hospital, to his left a long hall with many doors. _I have got to get the fuck out of here_. Who knows what horrors I'll find in this cursed place. Adam walks to the doors, turns a deadbolt, and walks outside.

Out in the street the fog is so thick Adam can barely see a few feet ahead of him. The surrounding buildings are only visible as vague shapes, shadows in the fog. And yet, there was something strangely reminiscent about them. Turning back to the doors Adam reads the sign above: Legion of Mary Catholic Hospital. It sparks his memory.

_Silent Hill? Could it be? How did I get here? I know I've been here before… and that it holds some emotional value… but I'm sure I haven't been to Silent Hill in years! I don't live here… Think! How did you come to be here? I awoke in a hospital… but fully clothed! I have no visible injuries… No bruises or bandages… I feel as though I am in perfect health… I need to find somebody..._

With that, a sort of resignation comes over Adam, an instinctual desire to find some answer. If this was a bad dream, there seemed to be some purpose or meaning to it. And, as if in a dream, he pushes onward without completely comprehending how extraordinary his situation is.

_Is this what it's like each time we dream? Time stretching out? A visceral, tactile authenticity to it. Everything seeming so real… Only to wake up with a vague recollection, if any memory at all?_

Adam climbs down the stairs and heads into the fog-covered street. It's dead quiet. The wind is still. The atmosphere is surreal. The fog is impossibly thick, like nothing Adam has ever seen. All this gives him a strange sense of comfort, a detachment from his nightmare. Adam starts walking down the middle of the road. This is the most logical thing to do, since it's the only way to see both sides of the road. Most of the streetlights aren't functioning, but periodically Adam comes across a block of working lights which turn the fog a dreamy orange tone, placing, in Adam, a deep, sad, melancholic feeling.

Adam walks aimlessly for several blocks. Running when he has the energy, but never stopping. Calling out every few blocks, he comes across no person, no thing. All there seems to be is the vast, desolate town, with no soul to walk it's streets but Adam.

The town seems to have a life of its own. The buildings watch over him as he passes, turning to watch him go, block by block. And, swirling around him - engulfing him - the sensual, mysterious, impervious fog. Onward, block by block, street by street, Adam continues. An hour passes, maybe more, but no voice returns his calls and no figure crosses his path.

Eventually, Adam comes to a lot with a tall double-sided neon sign on the corner. _Motel_. The sign permeates the whole block with a salacious, violet glow. Entering the parking lot the motel comes into clearer view. It has two floors, with cracked beige stucco on the outside; and a slanted, black-tiled roof. As Adam draws near he hears the sound of a man screaming, as though he's in the middle of a heated argument, accompanied by the plaintiff cries of a woman. One of the doors on the second floor flies open and man in a white dress shirt, a black tie and black pants stamps out, across the walkway, and down a set of stairs. He comes across the parking lot, almost directly towards Adam.

"Excuse me," Adam calls out. "Excuse me, sir!"

The man stamps onward, ignoring Adam's call. He has an angular face, and a pointed chin. His black hair is slicked to one side. Clenching his teeth and fists, he curses at the floor.

"Hey, excuse me," Adam says again, taking a few quick steps in his direction and reaching out to get his attention. The man whips his head around.

"Fuck off!" He yells, giving Adam a hateful, vindictive stare.

Adam turns round as the man passes him, watching him as he marches toward the street. Trudging onward hurriedly the man disappears into the heavy, purple fog. Walking backwards for a few steps, Adam turns back around and heads to the stairs leading to the second floor. The door the man came from is still wide open and the sounds of a woman crying are faintly audible. Adam's boots tap lightly as they fall on the cement walkway. Reaching the door he looks into the motel room and sees a young woman sitting on the near-side of the bed, naked, but with a burgundy bed sheet wrapped around her shoulders. Her dark-brown, shoulder length hair hanging, partially covering her face, she stares down at her feet crying. Adam leans up against the door frame and knocks on it. Startled, the woman looks up for a moment - the tracks of tears running down her face - and looks back down at her feet.

"Hi there," Adam says.

"Hi."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," the woman meekly replies, still staring down at her feet.

Next to the door a pair of tall black boots with pointed heels are neatly set aside. Apart from her boots, however, the room is in total disarray. Her clothes are scattered about the floor. A short black skirt lies askew, zipper open with a black leather belt unbuckled. Next to it, a low-cut scarlet top with lace trim. A black lace bra and matching panties lie a few feet apart, nearest to the bed. Also, near the door, a black suit jacket - presumably belonging to the man who just left.

Adam can see that, clearly, this woman is in some distress; but he is much more concerned with his current predicament so he ignores, for the moment, the woman's tears. Anyways, at the moment, she's no longer crying, though a few stray tears continue to roll down her cheeks.

"Excuse me, can you tell me what's going on here?" He asks, in a soft, hesitant voice. He's not completely sure what he wants to ask, or how to ask it. "I woke up in the hospital, although I don't know how I got here - to Silent Hill, that is - I was attacked by some… body. I really can't… It all feels so unreal…" Adam sighs, "Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"

A slight, apathetic smile comes across her face as she laughs slightly, exhaling through her nose. She parts her red, full, pouted lips.

"Yeah," she says, raising her head and staring at the wall with a distant gaze, her eyes reddened from crying. "I know what you're talking about". Just now, Adam notices a red mark on her right cheek. Someone had hit her.

"If you think you're going crazy, you're not," She adds.

"Did he hit you?" Adam asks, taking a few steps inside.

"Yeah," she confesses, staring back at the floor again, "But that's the least of our concerns right now". Her eyes dart about the floor, searchingly.

"I suppose so".

Adam steps over her clothes and sits next to her, with a little less than a foot between them. Now that he is no longer standing in front of the door, the violet neon lights fill the room, creating a seedy, lascivious atmosphere. The blinds over the window by the door seem to throb with a menacing glow.

"Do you live here?" Adam asks.

The woman laughs, as though he'd asked some ridiculous question. "No."

"How did you get here?"

"I'm not sure."

"Have you been to Silent Hill before?"

"Of course."

Adam suddenly throws his head in his hands, completely perplexed and frustrated. He lets out a groan. Pulling his hands out, in front of his face, he notices the dried blood, still on his hand. The woman on the bed must have noticed it, but apparently she didn't care.

Adam gets up off the bed and walks into the bathroom. Flicking on the light switch a florescent tube above the mirror flickers on. Immediately Adam is irritated by its piercing buzz. Stepping close to the mirror he analyses his hands. The blood is a deep red, almost black. He turns on the sink. It sputters twice then a steady stream comes forth. Adam wets his hands, grabs a cracked, dirty bar of soap next to the faucet, and begins to lather his hands. He rinses his hands, but the blood has barely faded. _Aw, fuck!_ He lathers his hands again, and rinses. Still there. _Damn it, get out! Out!_ Another three passes and most of the blood comes out, but a faint stain is left behind. Adam leans on the sink and looks around. The bedroom was passably clean, but the bathroom looks much grittier. The florescent lighting only seems to make the room seem more unwelcoming. Taking that as a sign Adam dries his hands on a towel by the door, turns off the light, and heads back to the spot where he was sitting.

As he reaches the bed. The woman slides the bed sheet from her slender shoulders, rises from the bed stark naked, and slowly wanders toward the window. She seems unfazed, making no attempt to cover herself. Only folding her arms over her breasts, presumably more for warmth than out of modesty. Adam freezes momentarily, slightly taken aback, but given his current circumstance nothing seemed too strange to him. The damning, apocalyptic atmosphere, the looming sense of mortal judgment has pushed out all other concerns. Part of him still feels that this maybe a dream, so he quickly accepts this turn.

"Look, uh, _what's your name_?" Adam asks.

"Maggie," she replies, after a pause.

Adam pauses for a moment to see if she's going to ask for his name. She doesn't. Instead she steps up to the window. Bending slightly, she parts the blinds to look outside.

"Look, Maggie," Adam continues, "I'm trying to make sense of all this. I'm trying to figure this out… but I need you to focus and try to answer my questions as clearly as possible. Maybe, if we put our heads together… We can get out of this. Can you do that for me?"

"Sure".

"Good," Adam says with a nod. Then putting his hand to his chin, tries to think of the right questions to ask.

"How long have you been in Silent Hill," he asks.

"I can't say for sure. Days. Maybe weeks."

"Has it been this foggy since you found yourself here?"

"It's cleared up a couple times, but it was always night… And there are no clocks, or… No _two_ clocks which read the _same time_."

"Hm… Are there many, uh, _people_ here - like us?"

"Not many… A few."

Maggie was still looking through the blinds. Adam glanced over her. The mark on her face is accompanied by similar ones, running down her arms and back. Some are distinct handprints. They were starting to turn blue and purple. Aside from the bruises she has a young, healthy body. Her arms and legs are toned. She's lean, but curvaceous, with strong legs and a high, shapely butt.

"Do you believe in Hell," Maggie says turning around to face Adam, dropping her hands by her side. A shot of terror runs through Adam's body.

She stands in front of the glowing, violet window. The neon light frames her silhouette. Maggie is a little older than Adam had originally though. Her body has a deceptively youthful look: large supple breasts, her abs even more well-defined than the rest of her body. Even her face - smooth and fair - and her dark brown hair give her a youthful visage - like a woman in her early twenties. But something in her eyes - a deep, jaded, mature expression - and the faint lines under them, indicate that she is quite a bit older. Thirty, maybe thirty-five.

"Yes, I do." Adam replies.

"I think that's where we are," Maggie finishes with a grave expression.

They fall silent for some time, eyes locked on one another. Tear stains still lining her face, Maggie bends down, picking up her bra and slipping it back on.

"This town… It guides you places," She says, reaching behind her back to hook her bra. "Keep your eyes open and follow the clues it gives you". She grabs her panties, slipping in one leg, then the other.

"I don't understand, what clues?" Adam asks. Maggie grabs her skirt, shimmying to pull it over her hips, and buckling the belt.

"Where did you first wake up?" She asks.

"In the hospital".

"How did you get here?"

"I just left, and wandered around town until I came here".

"Hmm…" Maggie thinks to herself for a moment, slipping on her top. "My advice would be to return to the hospital. You may find some clues there." She grabs the boots from the door and sits back on the bed to put them on.

"At the hospital…" Adam starts, apprehensively, "there were…"

"Monsters?" Maggie interjects.

"You've seen one, too?"

Maggie grabs a boot, sliding a dainty foot inside and zipping up the side, her fingernails and toenails are painted deep red.

"You need to grab a weapon, if you don't already have one". She turns her head to Adam with a sincere, sympathetic glance. "There'll be more, sweetheart". She grabs the other boot, slips it on and zips it up. Rising from the bed she walks to the door, grabbing a black purse on the dresser. Then, moving to the door, she grabs a dark-green, waist-length, cotton cotton. As she opens the door, buttoning her coat, Adam stands up.

" Hold on," he says.

Adam walks into the bathroom, turns the tap on briefly, then returns holding a wet facecloth. He walks up to Maggie, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and wipes the tears from her face. She laughs slightly, a little embarrassed, but clearly touched.

"Don't want you going out there looking like a widow," Adam says.

"Yeah, yeah" Maggie replies, trying to look annoyed.

"Where are you going?"

"I have my own puzzles to solve," she answers. Adam pauses.

"We _are_ going to solve this," he says, squeezing her shoulder.

"I hope you're right," She returns.

With that, Maggie steps out, closing the door behind her. Adam walks to the window, parting the blinds to watch her go. She doesn't look back. She just hurries onward and disappears in the violet fog.


	3. Chapter 3: The Girl Among the Fog

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter III: The third chapter set's up all the action to follow. In chapter 4 the story really gets crazy. This chapter will contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**III.**

A desolate, sun-parched, windswept desert. Adam walks along a dune, carrying a long wooden staff. His hair is grey, a thick untamed beard on his face. His lips are split and cracked. Deep lines cut across his forehead and under his eyes. Dressed in sweaty, faded clothing he stumbles down the dune barely able to continue walking. As he reaches the bottom of the dune he wraps his free hand around his throat. "I can't breath!" he says again and again with a weak, gravelly voice. His legs begin to shake beneath his body. Adam falls to his knees. He tries to hoist himself with his staff, but it melts in his hand and disappears. The weight of his body pulls him to the desert floor. As his strength drains from him, he pushes onward, crawling in the sand. Then, just as his last ounce of strength leaves his body, he collapses in front of a cool, blue stream. Rushing with vitality the stream runs onward to the horizons.

Adam scoops a handful of the cold, clear water, and gulps it hungrily. Now there is no more desert. Instead, all around the rushing stream, a vast, black vacuum. An infinite expanse of black nothingness. Adam crawls along the edge of the stream grabbing handfuls of water as he goes. As he does so, he becomes younger and younger. He crawls along the streams edge with renewed energy, searching for its source. Moving along, the stream get narrower and narrower, until it is no wider than a person's hand - and finally, as thin as a pair of fingers. Adam is now restored to his youth completely. The stream comes to its end.

A teenage girl sits atop a mossy rock, in a white dress shirt with a plaid tie and matching skirt. The stream runs up the rock and under her skirt, in between her legs which are spread wide apart. She raises her right hand and bites into a crimson apple. Then, raising her other hand she points directly to her left. Adam turns to see where she is pointing and sees a pair of theatre curtains, suspended in the vacuum. The curtains open to reveal a bedroom. Standing behind the bed a woman stands, staring back at him. She raises a small revolver to her head, presses it against her temple, pulls back the hammer, and shoots herself in the head.

Adam wakes up in the motel bed, sleeping on top of the the blankets. He's clothed, save only his leather jacket, which is hanging from the bed post, and his boots, which are lying on the floor. Rolling over, he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. _When did I fall asleep? And for how long?_ The blinds still radiate with that violet glow. Running a hand over his face, Adam stands and walks to the door. He opens it and, stepping in the doorway, leans against the frame. The fog is less thick than it was the day before. Still permeated with a neon glow.

_Best thing to do is to follow Maggie's advice. I need to go back to the hospital._

Putting on his jacket and boots, Adam makes his way downstairs and walks to the reception. Through the window he sees that it's dark inside, but he can make out everything in the room and it is clearly safe. Pushing open the door, he steps inside, taking one more glance to make sure the room is clear. Adam flicks the light switch a couple times, but the light isn't working. On the wall, the keys to the motel rooms hang on wooden pegs. Most of them are still on their designated pegs, with only a few empty spaces. Adam checks the drawers of a metal filing cabinet, each one containing files about their transactions or employees - nothing of any particular interest. Moving to the desk Adam glances over papers which are neatly stacked in the centre of the desktop, then checks its drawers. In the first drawer he checks he finds a stack of maps, intended for tourists. Adam slips it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He checks the remaining drawers, finding nothing useful but a red felt pen (which he slides into the pocket with his map). Adam turns back towards the door. A black, steel crowbar is leaning against the wall beside the door. Grabbing it, Adam waves it up and down slightly, getting a feel for its weight.

Static breaks the silence.

Adam spins around. A small, old-fashioned, mahogany radio sits on a small table in the corner. The radio dial is back-lit in indigo. Adam tilts his head, curiously, and steps towards it. A few intermittent voices come through the static, though, they're totally incomprehensible. Adam reaches for the knob, turning it all the way down. No affect. He turns it up and down. _Must be broken._ He reaches to the hit the power switch, but as he's about to do so the radio suddenly ramps up, getting louder. Now, more voices are coming through the static. They're a little clearer now, he can almost make them out. Adam turns the radio dial, moving a small black arrow across a broad enough frequency bandwidth to span several stations. The voices don't get any clearer, only climbing louder. There are dozens of voices in the static now. Adam's stomach knots up and he becomes terribly anxious. The voices in the static seem to call his name. He hits the power. The indigo light blinks, then fades away. The static ceases.

Adam drops his head. Taking a deep breath, then another, he tries to settle his nerves. But before he can do so, he becomes cognisant of another sound. The familiar sound of shuffling feet and clicking joints coming from behind him. Adam looks over his shoulder to see one of those pale monsters standing in the doorway - a slender, androgynous figure, holding a long, rusted hunting knife. It steps inside the office, with another identical monster directly behind it.

Holding the knife upwards in a slashing gesture the monster takes three long strides towards Adam, tilting its head from side to side as it walks. Adam swings at its arm. A loud crunch. Its forearm shatters, bending over itself and dropping the knife to the floor. The monster reaches outward to grab Adam around his shoulder, but Adam raises his leg - pressing his boot against its chest - and pushes it backwards. It stumbles away from him, bumping into the monster behind it. Adam steps forward and swings the crowbar at the monster's head. Its skull shatters, with blackened blood splashing all around it. With blood running down its bleached chest the creature falls to its knees, then crumples up on the floor. The other monster comes forward, stumbling slightly as it steps on the other's body. Adam swings at its knee, which snaps outward, causing the monster to fall in on itself. Adam raises the crowbar over his head and brings it down on the monster's skull with two violent blows.

Adam steps over the bodies on the floor, panting like an animal, his leg's shaking. Outside, he falls sideways, pinning his shoulder against the wall. He slides to the floor. _God, I feel sick._ Nauseated, he leans over, supporting himself with one arm. His head is spinning. He has a tight, cramped sensation in his stomach.

Using the wall for support, he forces himself to stand. His legs still shaking, Adam staggers onward. Walking into the mist he continues into the street. Then, several blocks later, he stops and pulls out his map. He unfolds the large map, checks his course, and starts walking again. Coming from the violet lights of the motel, the monochrome around this town seems more dreary than before. Before too long, he comes back to the building from whence he came.

Walking up the stone steps he comes to the doors. He takes a deep breath. Adam grabs the rusted door handle and pulls it open as quietly as possible, wincing as it creaks. He walks directly to the double doors of the ER and makes his way inside. Adam stands still for a moment, giving his eyes time to adjust to the enveloping darkness. Walking to the leftmost aisle, he moves to the opposite corner of the room - where the reception was.

Adam climbs back over the desk to look over everything with greater scrutiny. He analyses the papers scattered across the desk, all baring the hospital's letterhead. Bending over them, Adam skims over them. They all seem to contain banal information. Memos to the staff, newsletter, patient information. _I won't find anything here that has anything to do with me._ Adam scratches his chin, cursing under his breath. Then, a spark, a notion strikes him. Returning to the filing cabinets he looks over the cabinets and drawers until he comes to the "O" section. Pulling open the drawer, he runs his hands over the folders, then stops. He reads the name on its tab. It's his own. Adam pulls the folder out and glances inside. He walks to the table, pulls out a chair, and sits down - opening the folder on the desktop.

Adam sifts through the papers. Leaning over the folder, he reads the files with furrowed brows. The papers inside have nothing to do with him. They're all documents on St. Dominic: "Hymn of St. Dominic", "Litany of St. Dominic", "Prayer to St. Dominic". On top of them all, a long biography, "St. Dominic, founder of the Preaching Friars: by Father Francis Xavier Weninger, 1876".

Silently, Adam begins to read the biography:

_St. Dominic, the glorious patriarch and founder of the famous Order of the Friars Preachers, was born in Spain of illustrious and pious parents. His mother, before his birth, had a vision in her sleep, in which it seemed to her that she was bearing a little dog, which carried in its mouth a burning torch that illuminated the whole world. At the time of his baptism, a noble matron saw a bright star on the brow of Dominic. By this God probably intended to foreshadow the future labors of St. Dominic and their effect; how, by his sermons, he would drive away the heretics-those veritable wolves in the Christian fold- and how while he illumined the whole world with his teaching and virtues, he would at the same time inflame it with love of God._

Adam continues reading:

_Dominic evinced, in his earliest youth, a love of virtue quite unusual for his age. He would rise in the middle of the night to pray; he was extremely moderate in eating and drinking, and modest in all his ways. He detested all worldly amusements, avoided all questionable society, was compassionate towards the poor, and sought all his pleasure in prayer, in visiting the churches and in study. […] He preserved his innocence and purity unspotted till his death, and the means which he employed to do this were, avoidance of idleness, and of intercourse with the other sex; temperance in eating and drinking. _

_[…] When thirty years of age, he began to preach, and continued for two years, with great success. After this he accompanied the bishop to France, which was, at that period, greatly disturbed by the heresy of the Albigenses. When they arrived at their destination they took lodgings in a house where the people were tainted with the heresy; but Dominic soon convinced them of their error and they returned to the true faith. […] Authentic historians say that he converted more than 100,000 heretics to the truth faith…_

_[…] The Albigenses had written a book filled with heretical doctrines, which they gave the Catholics to read. St. Dominic refuted this by another book, and to convince the people that his was the true one, he threw both into the fire, in the presence of a crowd of heretics and faithful. The heretical book was instantly seized by the flames and consumed, while the book written by the Saint remained intact, raised itself up, fluttered a little while in the air, and then lighted upon a beam to the utter amazement of the spectators. This miracle was repeated a second and a third time, and not only strengthened the faith of the Catholics, but confounded the heretics..._

_It is also related that this holy man relieved many who were possessed, cured many who were sick, and raised the dead to life. […] To preserve these in the true faith and to bring others to the knowledge of the truth, he resolved to found an order. […] Pope Innocent III at first refused to give his consent to this plan; but, one night, he dreamed that the walls of the Lateran church appeared to fall, but were supported by St. Dominic, and saved from the impending destruction; he concluded from this that St. Dominic had been elected by God to be the pillar of His church, and no longer withheld his consent to the founding of the new order…_

_[…] One night, when St. Dominic prayed in the church of St. Peter, he saw Christ sitting on a throne in the clouds, surrounded by indescribable splendor. He held three spears in his hand to punish the world with three chastisements, famine, war and pestilence, because of the iniquity of the people. […] At last, the Blessed Virgin herself came to His feet, and humbly asked mercy for those whom He had redeemed with His precious blood. […] The prayers of His Blessed Mother appeased Christ, and He approved of the intentions of the two holy men. This vision was not only a great comfort to St. Dominic, but an incentive to use all his endeavors to reach the end he had proposed to himself._

_For many years he strove, with incomparable zeal, to accomplish his design, when it pleased the Almighty to call him to receive the reward of his unwearied labors. He received the announcement of his death from Our Lord Himself, Who appeared to him during his prayers and said: "Come, come to enjoy true happiness." After this, he fell ill, and having made his confession, he so fervently and devoutly received the Blessed Sacrament, that he drew tears from the eyes of all who were near him. […] At last he requested them to read aloud for him the usual prayers for the departing soul. When they came to the words: "Come to his assistance, ye Saints of God, come forth to meet him, ye Angels of the Lord, receiving his soul, offer it to the Most High," he calmly closed his eyes and gave up his soul, filled with so many merits, into the hand of God, in the year 1221, the 50th of his age._

_[…] He desired nothing but to work for the salvation of souls, to suffer and be despised. Towards himself he was extremely severe; he constantly wore a rough hair-shirt, fastened around the loins with an iron chain, drawn so tightly, that it cut into the flesh. The steps of the altar or the bare boards were his bed. He scourged himself three times each night, first for his own sins; secondly for the sins of other men; and thirdly, for the souls in purgatory…_

_Many other splendid examples of admirable virtues must be omitted here, for want of space; but the great devotion he always entertained for the Queen of Heaven must be mentioned. This devotion arose from his great love for her. He began nothing without invoking her assistance with filial confidence, and he disseminated veneration for her by the use of the Rosary, which the Almighty deigned to confirm by many miracles._

This biography was followed by "Practical Considerations" which listed, at length, the proof of Dominic's "perfect virtues". The three listed were:

1. Abstaining from idleness, sexual intercourse, and temperance in eating and drinking.

2. Lifelong commitment to the service of God, and salvation of souls.

3. The institution of the Rosary.

Adam leans back and exhales. As he was reading the biography he immediately recognised it - like something he had read many times before. He knew each successive sentence, even before he read it. This 19th century record brought forth in Adam a mixture of unexplained emotions. Pausing for contemplation, Adam finds himself unable to draw any meaning from them. But, in spite of his perplexity, he has a gut instinct that this was some vital clue.

Adam pulls the map from inside his jacket, opens it, and spreads it out over the desktop. Finding the hospital on the map, he marks it with an "X". Then, running his finger Northwest, he finds the motel he was at earlier, circling it, then drawing a dotted line from the motel to the hospital. Pinning his elbow atop the map, and resting his chin in his hand, he pours over the map. Looking for anything which may spark his memory Adam scans the map from top to bottom, moving left to right in systematic rows. Coming near his current location, he stops. _St. Dominic's High School_. Adam circles it. Quickly, skimming over the remainder of the map to ensure there is nothing else of interest, he resolves to go to the school.

Adam folds the map up and replaces it. He takes the various hymns and prayers from the folder, folds them in half lengthwise, then widthwise, and place them in the pocket opposite the map. As for the biography, Adam places it in its folder and then back into the filing cabinet. It's too thick to carry, and in any case, he's confident that he has it memorised.

Adam exits the hospital, heading to the high school. _One block east, seven blocks north._ Jogging down the street, Adam notices a change in the fog. Now it's a little lighter than a few hours prior, and it's changed into more of a rolling fog, swirling and waving as though windblown, but without any gusts to push it. Heading North, Adam sees one of those androgynous monsters he encountered at the motel. Adam squeezes his crowbar, but chooses to run past as it stumbles through the street. A few blocks onward he runs past another. Nearing his final location, Adam passes through a block with working streetlights. Again Adam is filled with that implacable melancholy, he slows down as he walks through the street, admiring the softly glowing brume.

Adam arrives at his destination. The high school stands looming in the distance, appearing as a mere shadow behind the fog. All around the perimeter is a six-foot brick wall. Running along the top of the wall - a fence - spear-topped black iron rods, about a foot in length. Walking along the wall Adam comes to a large wrought iron gate. It's shaped like an arched doorway, with spear-top rods running vertically across it and some insignia in the centre. Adam releases a latch, and pushes open the gate into a large courtyard, paved with asphalt.

The fog seems to have settled in this courtyard. Thick, brume rolls along the floor, whirling round Adams' feet as he walks. A vapourous haze fills the air around him, which, coupled with the darkness, makes it difficult too see anymore then ten feet ahead of him. Walking straight forward from the gate, he comes to a life sized statue of a knight. His two hands grip any iron spear which he is holding in front of his body, pointing skyward. There is a worn stone placard at its feet. Adam kneels to read it. _Grand Master Jacque de Molay, Templar of War._ Two statues stand on either side of this one, ten feet apart. Adam walks to the one on the right. This knight holds his spear in his left hand, pointing up. _Grand Master Gerard de Ridefort, Templar of Pestilence. _ Finally Adam checks the last statue, on the left, which holds its spear in its right hand. _Grand Master Bernard de Tremelay, Templar of Famine._

Adam looks up at the high school. The facade of the building has a gothic design, with brick walls and granite around the windows. It's two floors, at least above ground. The windows are thickly covered in dirt and mildew. The building has a imperious, domineering appearance. It seems to loom over Adam, staring down in judgement. A deep, ominous sense of foreboding stirs up within him. Adam has a sudden inclination to turn around and run, like a child at the doorstep of an old, haunted house, but he resists this urge. Moving closer to the building the fog clears, like theatre curtains parting, to reveal the doorway to the school. Three granite steps lead up to two heavy, mahogany doors; and, over the doors, a large granite arch. Engraved on the arch it reads: St. Dominic's Catholic High School. Sitting on the stairs on the righthand side of the arch, a thin, meek-looking girl.

The girl is fifteen, maybe sixteen years old. She sits with her legs folded over one another - black ballet flats on her feet - and a small purse resting on top of her black pleated skirt. She's wearing a white dress shirt and, over it, a baby blue cashmere sweater. The sweater fits closely over her thin arms, with its cuffs coming over her hands a little. She has light blonde hair, almost shoulder length, with her bangs held back on one side with a silver hair clip. As Adam steps closer she sits in a more defensives posture and places on hand inside her purse. She stares up at him with wide, fearful, pale-blue eyes. She presses her lips, visibly anxious, and seems to shiver.

"Stay back, please," she says, with a shaken voice.

Adam stops, five or six feet away. "You don't have to worry, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I have a gun," she calls back - trying to sound assertive - pulling a small silver handgun from her purse momentarily, then sliding it back inside.

"Don't worry," Adam says with a calming voice. "I'll stand back here… Are you here alone?"

She tilts her head down slightly and her lips starts to quiver as though she's about to cry.

"Yes".

"How long have you been here?"

She knits her brows, creasing he forehead faintly, and her eyes well up with tears.

"I don't know."

As she says this she breaks into unrestrained crying.

"I woke up here alone," she blurts out, raising her free hand in front of her mouth as if to fan herself. "I can't get home, and these horrible things, they -".

She breaks out in stammered moans, drawing in quick, short gasps.

Adam takes a few steps toward her, sitting on the bottom step - careful to keep a little distance.

"Hey, hey," he says in a soft, sympathetic voice. "It's gonna be alright".

"No, it's not!"

"Of course it is… There has to be a way out of here."

Adam looks down at the steps for awhile, as the girl hunches over pressing her hand to her brow she continues to cry.

"Listen, I'm going to find a way out of here… I already have an idea of what I need to do - and as soon as I figure this out I'll get us both out of this place".

This seems to ease her crying momentarily. She looks deep into his eyes, hers teary an reddened.

"_Really?_" she says flatly.

"Really," Adam says with an unambiguous nod.

The fragile girl sits still for awhile, trembling, still drawing in a few sharp gasps and sniffling. She wipes the corner of her eyes and rubs her nose with the back of her hand. Turning forward, she stretches her legs out over the stairs, one hand clasped around her little purse, the other still holding the gun inside. She stares down at her feet, sniffling, then smooths out her skirt.

"Why do you think you can find a way out of here?" the girl asks, looking at him briefly, then looking back at her shoes.

"I… found something, which told me to come to this school." Adam replies.

"Maybe you were supposed to find me here," the girl chirps back, suddenly somewhat optimistically.

"I think you're right," Adam says with a smile.

Adam gets up and walks to the top of the steps.

"Listen, I have to search this school and it could be dangerous," He starts, "so I need you to stay here-"

The girl jumps to her feet, her purse tumbling down the stairs, the gun rolling out on the pavement. She grabs his arm with both hands, looking up at him with a plaintiff, helpless, pleading expression.

"You can't leave me here!" She squeezes his arm.

"Let me finish," He places a hand over hers, "It could be dangerous, so I need you to wait here while I make sure it's safe for you to come in -"

"No, no, no!" The girl interjects, about to cry again.

"You have a gun, and -"

"Please don't!"

"If you see anything, just come inside and call for me. I won't go any farther than the first few rooms."

"I don't want to stay out here by myself," she pleads, sniffling twice, then touching her nose with he sleeve.

"I promise, the second I hear you call, I'll come running," Adam, reassures her.

Then as she lowers her arm, he notices an ornament on her sweater. She has a brooch pinned above her left breast, a silver flower with five petals and a bell in the middle, which is pink inside.

"Nice pin," Adam says. She looks down at it briefly.

"It's an orchid," She says proudly, raising her chin with a smile.

Adam walks back down the steps, grabbing her purse and the gun which had fallen out. He drops the gun inside the purse and hands it back to her.

"Do you know how to use that thing?" Asks Adam, walking upstairs and grabbing the brass handle of the door.

"Yep," the girl replies flatly. Sensing he's settled on following through on his plan, she tilts her head, staring at the floor resignedly.

"Good," Adam says. He pulls open the door, which makes a deep, stuttering groan as he does so.

Peering through the door as best he can, he takes a step inside.

"Wait!" the girl calls out, grabbing his arm. He turns to face her.

"I didn't get your name," she says.

"Adam, and you are?"

"Elizabeth."

"Pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth."

Adam turns to face the dark and pulls the large mahogany door closed behind him.


	4. Chapter 4: Horrors in the High School

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter IV: Chapter Four will contain a lot of action, violence, and puzzles (yay!). This chapter will contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**IV.**

Adam stares down a long dark hallway. The school has a musty, fetid smell. Walking cautiously, he squints in the darkness. He here's a sound coming down the hall. The sound of footsteps and that nauseating crackling sound. _There's no choice but to clear all these halls for Elizabeth._ The monster comes within range of sight. Skinny silhouettes, shaped like teenage girls, fitted with what Adam can make out as skirts and ties. They drag long, blunt objects along the floor, making metallic scarping sounds. There are three of them.

Adam runs up to the the first one and, before it has the chances to react, brings the crow bar down on its head with brutal force - its head splitting in half down the middle before collapsing to the floor. The second monster swings for Adams head. He lurches back. The object sails past his head. Adam grabs the crow bar and cross-checks the monster across the chest, sending it reeling backwards. Adam lunges forward, swinging for the monster while it's off balance. His aim is a little off, hitting the creature about its chin and ripping its jaw from its face. A pipe sails through the darkness, hitting Adam in the side of the head - the third monster one caught him unaware. Falling backwards to floor Adam scrambles away from the two creatures.

"Aahhh, fuck!" Adam gets to his feet, shooting pains rushing through his head, and staggers farther back. Now the room appears not only pitch black, but spinning. He feels warm blood running down the side of his face. _One wrong move and I'm on the ropes. _In a panic, Adam steps forward and begins swinging. The first couple swings sail through the air. Then, on the third, he connects with something. A pipe strikes his ribs.

"Ugh!"

Adam back pedals pushing his back up against the door from which he came. His head has stopped spinning and standing near the door a small overhead window lets a little more light in. The jawless monster has a ragged hole in its face, which spills blood down its chest and over its tie. The other has its right arm broken, which bends above its elbow and dangles awkwardly as it walks. It's dropped its weapon and poses no real threat at this point. Adam swings at the jawless monster, its head snaps sideways and it falls over on one knee. His crowbar sinks into its soft skull as he strikes it one more time. Then Adam walks to the other creature and brings the butt of his weapon down on its head, the edge of which lodges in its skull. It collapses. Adam stomps on the creature, its head bursting like a melon.

Adam stands by the door trying to collect himself. He presses his hand against the side of his head. There is blood running down his face. Adam groans painfully, then, after a taking a minute to recover, resolves to start checking doors. He walks to the first door on the left. He opens it a crack. Adam hears the sound of radio static. Another monster lies inside and staggers towards the doorway. Adam pushes open the door and wades into the darkened room. Approaching the figure, Adam swings at it, hitting it about the neck. The monster staggers sideways. Adam strikes it again, dropping its lifeless body to the floor.

The static from the radio dies out. _The radio reacts to the monsters_. Adam walks to a desk at the front of the classroom. He strains to see what's on the top of the desk. _Nothing_. Adam rifles through the drawers. He feels a small, metallic, cylindrical object. He feels a button on it, and presses it. _A flashlight._ Adam shines it towards the opposite side of the room. Somehow, the light makes everything seem more ominous. Everything which falls under the light looks corrupted and decayed, and everything outside the light looks blacker than it did before. Other than its vaguely hellacious appearance there is nothing particularly noteworthy about the room. Five rows of desks, a few slightly out of order, and the body of the monster he killed in front of the desks - another of the schoolgirls. Adam moves the light over to the corner opposite the desk.

Adam reels backwards. In the corner of the room the corpse of a teenage girl sits on a wooden chair. The body is dressed in a Catholic schoolgirl's uniform, though it is covered in crusted, dry blood. Her skin has been peeled away. A puddle of dry blood surrounds the chair. This girl is not like the monsters Adam has encountered, this is a real, human girl. Adam stares in horror at her mutilated corpse. Its head is tilted backwards and barbed wire is wrapped around its head, in such a way as to prop open her mouth. Her arms are tied behind the back of the chair with rope, and her legs are tied to the legs of the chair, propping them open. _Dear, God!_ Adam falls to his knees grasping at the edge of teacher's desk. _Who would do this? What kind of monster would do something like this? Jesus, I can't take this, I can't!_

Adam sits, slouch over for some time. A nauseous feel swells in his stomach. He coughs, and heaves a couple times, then calms himself breathing deeply through clenched teeth. Clutching the desk, he rises to his feet. Turning to leave the room, Adam flashlight falls across the blackboard. Written on the blackboard, a poem written in chalk. The handwriting is in cursive, it reads:

There is a humble Catholic girl, chaste as she is pure

Without idleness nor unclean thoughts she toils

The Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ lies waiting deep inside her

The love of God on High her only spoils

Adam exits the room, making his way to the room across the hall. Again he opens the door slowly, cautiously. He shines his flashlight into the room - it appears to be clear. Stepping inside, Adam shines the flashlight around the room, checking the blackboard and the desks. The room seems barren for the most part. Adam looks through the teacher's desk. There's nothing of any particular interest. Making one last pass with his flashlight he sees a painting mounted on the back wall. Adam walks to the back of the room, passing between the rows of desks as he goes. He steps to the painting. It's an oil painting of dog, engulfed in flames, running through a crowded marketplace. A placard on the bottom of the frame reads: The Vision of the Dog. Adam pauses to recall the passage from St. Dominic's biography: _His mother, before his birth, had a vision in her sleep, in which it seemed to her that she was bearing a little dog, which carried in its mouth a burning torch that illuminated the whole world._

The next few rooms that Adam checks contain nothing particularly noteworthy. The same dreary, ominous atmosphere as the previous. From one of the rooms Adam grabs an embossed silver Zippo lighter, slipping it into his breast pocket. He reaches a T-shaped intersection at the end of the hall. _This would be a good time to turn around and grab Elizabeth… I've left her out there too long already._ Adam turns round and walks back to the the front entrance. He opens the large mahogany doors with a push. Elizabeth is still standing where he left her, arms folded to keep herself warm.

"God, what took you so long?" she blurts out impatiently.

"I'm sorry, there are more than a few of those monsters in here," Adam replies. He holds a hand out to invite her inside. She steps in to the main hallway and sees the bodies of the schoolgirls lying on the floor.

"I think I've found a place for you to stay while I search the building," Adam tells her, putting a hand on her shoulder to guide her. Adam takes her to the classroom where he had seen the dog painting. "You should be safe in here," Adam declares in a matter-of-fact way, "There's nothing in here but a tacky painting". Adam walks to the a radio on the teacher's desk and flicks it on. "I think the radios react to the creatures," Adam states, then walking to the corner turns on a tall lamp. The light filters through the lampshade emitting a pale, peach glow, which doesn't quite reach the opposite wall. Elizabeth sits in one of the student's desks at the front of the room, clasping her hands and crossing her ankles underneath the chair as though she's about to receive a lecture. Adam grabs a seat at the desk next to hers, turning in her direction.

"So you're gonna ditch me here now?" Elizabeth says plainly, eyeing her hands.

"I'm afraid so," Adam replies, "but I'll come back to check on you every once in a while."

The image of the mutilated girl in the other room flashes through his mind.

"You need to keep your eyes peeled," he adds sternly. "There are stills monsters around… If anything comes at you, just fire off your gun. I won't be any farther than a few rooms down at any time, just make sure you don't shoot me coming in."

"Why can't I just come with you?" the girl asks him, shooting him a pleading look.

"I'm afraid that would be even more dangerous," Adam replies flatly. Then pointing at the cut on his head, adds, "See, one already caught me. They almost had me -"

"Oh, my God!" Elizabeth interjects, standing from her desk to check on his wound. "You've got a serious gash there!" She walks to his desk and stands over him, analysing his head wound.

"It's not so bad."

"Yes, it is!" she insists. "It's wide open."

She sighs, then puts her purse down on the desk and ruffles around it.

"I have some bandages I grabbed earlier… here they are."

She pulls out two small butterfly bandages, peels off the plastic, and sticks them on her thumb. She presses her hand over his ear, tilting his head, and pinches the wound closed. Adam winces slightly. As she tends to his wound as best she can, Adam glances up at her. With the pale lamplight shining on her, Adam notices for the first time just how pretty she is. She has soft, wide pale-blue eyes which move over his cut with a careful, compassionate expression. She bites her lower lip slightly. She's wearing no lipstick. Her lips are thin, but alluring - the top lip slightly upturned, giving her a pouted expression. Her cheekbones are soft and unpronounced, and she has small, cute, pointed nose resembling a kittens. There is a healthy, pink hue in her cheeks.

"You fixed me," Adam says playfully, as she leans back to assess her work. She wipes some blood off on the hip of her skirt.

"I don't wanna have to do this again," She scolds him, coquettishly, wagging a finger at him.

Elizabeth leans back against the teacher's desk, placing her hands on its edge and pushing her chest out as she gazes into the corner of the room.

"Uh, listen," Adam begins, look down at his desk, "the sooner I get on my way, the sooner we can get out of here, so-"

"So, you better get a move on" She interjects. Adam nods.

Elizabeth hops up on the teachers desk and hunches over tapping her heels against the metal siding, alternately. Adam rises from his desk and makes his way to the door. As he steps out and closes the door behind him, he gives one more glance in her direction to see her facing the floor with a dejected expression.

Back in the hallway, Adam makes his way back to the T-shaped intersection at the end and turns down the right hall. He walks from door to door, systematically checking the rooms as he goes. Reaching the third room he opens the door slightly, sticking his flashlight through the doorway. A nun, like the one he encountered in the hospital, is standing at the end of the room. Adam puts the flashlight through a belt loop on his hip, to free his hands, and steps into the room. Framed in the aura of light from his flashlight, he's struck by how much the nun resembles the Virgin Mary. Posed as if in prayer, her hands are clasped around her silver cross, and her head bowed introspectively. As Adam nears, she jerks into motion, like a robot that's just been initiated. She takes the cross in one hand, revealing its pointed edge. Walking to meet Adam, she raises the cross high over her head, in a stabbing gesture, her joints grinding and popping.

Adam swings the crowbar at her head, lodging its hooked end in the side of her skull. As she swings at his arm Adam jerks backwards, tearing her face off of her head. _Ugh, god damn it!_ With a gaping hole in the front of her head she steps forward, stabbing blindly at the air. Adam swings down, crushing what remains of her skull.

As the nun's lifeless body falls to the floor, Adam makes his way around the room. Taking his flashlight back in his hand he scans the desks and floor. Finding nothing of use or interest, Adam makes his way out the door. Continuing along he proceeds to check the rooms as he comes across them. At the end of the hall there's a pair of doors on either side, one with a sign reading "First Aid", the other a push-bar door. Adam opens the push-bar door and peers in. _Stairs leading to the second floor._ Adam turns back and enters the First-Aid room.

It's a small room with cupboards and drawers all around, and a clinic-style bed with stirrups and the roll of papers that goes over it. Adam check the cupboards, which are filled with medical supplies. He grabs a bottle of antiseptic and a jar filled with cotton balls. Dabbing the cotton with antiseptic, he wipes his bandaged cuts, wincing a little. Adam leans up against the bed and let's out a long sigh. _What exactly am I expecting to find here? More mutilated teenagers?_ The image flashes through his mind, causing him to shudder. _I have no idea what it I'm supposed to be looking for… _Adam runs his hand over his face, sighing again. He pushes open the door and walks back down the hall way.

Heading down the left leg of the hospital, Adam proceeds to check first two doors on his right are bathroom doors. Adam walks into the boys' bathroom first. He shines his flashlight around the room, cautiously checking all corners, peering under the stalls. The bathroom is remarkably dirty. Grime covers the tiled walls and floor, the doors of the stalls are rusted and the urinals stained brown and green. The air has has a wretched odour, an oppressive, indescribably foul smell. Pushing open the stall doors, Adam finds nothing but stained, broken toilets. Adam moves to the girls' bathroom. It's as filthy as the one he checked before. Something catches Adam's eye. Sitting atop the counter of the bathroom sink he sees a sheet of paper, lying conspicuously, near the edge. Adam walks over and picks it up. There is a picture on it, or, maybe more appropriately, a diagram. It's a conical tower, with seven floors. It resembles a stack of rings, getting smaller as it reaches the top. By each floor of the tower, a number (starting with one at the bottom, and going to seven at the top), and by each number, a label. It reads:

1. The Proud

2. The Envious

3. The Wrathful

4. The Slothful

5. The Covetous

6. The Gluttonous

7. The Lustful

Adam stares at it momentarily, confounded and bemused, he puts the picture down and leaves the girls' bathroom. Making his way to the next door way, Adam opens the it, peering in. There, standing between the rows of desks, another nun - frozen in the same position as the other. But something else catches Adam's eye. At her side, on top of a desk, a white book.

Adam walks into the room. He stops at the front of the room, not wanting to box himself in between the desks. The nun jolts into motion, staggering towards Adam. As it comes within arms length, he swings his crowbar against its head, smashing its face inward with one fatal blow. Collapsing to the ground, Adam steps over the nun's body. He steps to the desk with the white book on its surface. Amidst all the dirty, dusty, decaying objects in this world this book stands out, glaringly. The white, leather-bound book is immaculate, almost as if it were brand new. It is embossed with shiny, golden lettering. _Dante Paradiso._ Intuitively, Adam knows that he needs to take this anomalous book with him. He looks around the room for something to carry it in. Seeing a beige, denim shoulder bag, he grabs it, dumping out its contents on a desk. Adam puts it over his shoulder, placing the book inside, and then reaching into his inside pockets throws the map, the felt, and the hymns in as well.

Adam leaves the room and crosses the hallway. Entering the classroom opposite, he gives the room a thorough search, finding nothing that catches his eye. He leaves, crossing the hall to go to the final room - opposite, there's another doorway leading into a stairwell. Throwing open the door Adam sees it's a janitorial office. Walking inside he looks around. The room is fill with banal janitorial products: mops, buckets, tools, paint, bottles of all sorts, brooms, rakes, and a variety of other things. Seeing nothing he can use, Adam resolves to return to Elizabeth before heading upstairs.

Adam marches back to the room he left Elizabeth in. He opens the doors and steps inside to find her at the back of the classroom, looking at the painting of the dog with her arms crossed. Adam leans up against the front desk. Elizabeth wraps a foot around her other leg, scratching her calf.

"Like it?" Adam asks. Elizabeth spins around.

"God," she gasps, "don't do that!"

She turns back around to look at the painting.

"Strange painting," she mumbles.

"It's from a Catholic legend of sorts," Adam says, off-handishly. "According to the story, St. Dominic's mother had a dream - while she was pregnant - that she gave birth to a dog which set fire to the earth… or something to that affect, anyway."

"Creepy."

"I don't think so," Adam continues, "The fire was supposed to spread the knowledge of Christ."

"All I see is a dog on fire, the world looks like it's doing fine."

Adam puts his finger to his chin.

"Huh. That's a good point, actually."

He pushes himself forward from the desk and paces across the room, stopping next to Elizabeth. Acting on a hunch, Adam reaches into his pocket, pulling out his silver zippo. He lights it and holds it up to the painting, over the dog.

"What're you doing?" Elizabeth asks, quizzically.

"I'm not exactly sure, myself" Adam replies with a shrug.

The oil starts to liquify and blister.

"I hope you weren't planning to take this home with you," Adam says with a grin.

The flame spreads to the painting, then spread outwards towards the frame with surprising speed. The painting starts to warp and come apart. Adam presses the back of his hand against Elizabeth's shoulder, indicating to step back a little. As they do so, the wilting, blistering painting falls forward from the frame, in pieces. At the back of the painting, embedded in the frame, a golden ring. Adam and Elizabeth give each other a glance, both a little surprised. Adam reaches into the frame, picking the ring out with his nails. He holds the ring out in the palm of his hand, the ring slightly warmed from the brief fire. They stare down at it for a moment.

"What does it mean?" Elizabeth asks.

"I don't know," Adam responds, "but at least I know we're getting somewhere."

Adam slips the ring in the pocket of his jeans. He lets out a long sigh.

"Alright, now we've got to check upstairs," Adam utters, knitting his brow. Elizabeth frowns, creasing her forehead and sticking out her bottom lip. She groans.

"I know, sweetheart, I feel the same way."

Adam, makes his way to the door. Reluctantly, Elizabeth follows, dragging her feet and exhaling -rolling her lips in idle protest. They walk down the hallway, turn right, and reach the door. Adam pushes it open with a frustrated, listless shove. He hold it open with his foot, looking up then down the the stairwell.

Adam sighs, "I guess I should check downstairs, quickly".

Elizabeth shrugs, looking down at her feet. Adam walks down the stairs, holding a hand up to his companion, indicating she should stay a few feet back. Coming to the bottom of the stairwell, he pushes open a door way, shining his flashlight inside. It's a large boiler room with pipes, tanks, shelves, and boxes all about. Adam tries to get a good look around but there are too many things impeding his view.

"Alright, I'm going in to look around the boiler room. You should stay out here," Adam states firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looks around nervously, tilting her head to look up from where they came.

"Can I keep the door open?" she asks.

"Uh… Yeah, I don't see why not."

Adam walks into the dark, boiler room. The pipes around rattle and hiss all around him. Elizabeth places her foot against the door, holding it open, and crosses her arms watching Adam intently. Adam walks forward cautiously, shining the light around him methodically as he goes. He squeezes his crowbar a couple times, waving it at his side anxiously. Passing a heating tank, his heart skips a beat. Shining his flashlight on a six-foot shadow by the wall, it's revealed to be nothing more then a pipe, running along the floor than up and into the wall. Adam passes a stack of boxes, shining a light around the other side, guardedly. He aims his light forward. By the opposite wall, he sees a book, sitting atop a cardboard box. Eager to get out as quickly as possible, Adam strides briskly, convinced that this was the purpose of his coming down here. The sound of his footsteps reflecting off all the pipes, Adam becomes progressively more anxious as he reaches the other side.

He stops over the box, looking down at the book. _Dante Inferno_. The title is written in the same golden lettering as the book he had found before, and it has the same leather-bound cover, except this one is bright red. Adam picks it up, analysing it.

"Are you almost done there?" Elizabeth shouts, her voice reverberating around the boiler room.

"Yeah, I'm done," Adam replies, not quite loud enough to be intelligible from where Elizabeth is standing.

Adam flips over the book to glance at the back, but as he does so he notices a blackened spot, where he had picked up the book. The spot spreads outwards slowly. Adam puts the book in his shoulder bag, watching the the spot with perplexed fascination. It is like papery ash, spreading outward and peeling as it goes. Nearing the edge of the box the ash starts spreading faster. Adam takes two steps back, staring with a blank expression, unsure what to make of it. Then, a loud bang, like a gunshot, shatters the silence. Adam snaps his head around. _The door._ Adam sprints back to the the other side of the room.

"Elizabeth!" he calls out.

He makes it to the doors and slams against the push-bar. A jolt of pain runs through his body. The doors won't budge, almost as if they had been welded shut. Adam bangs on the door.

"Elizabeth!" he shouts, louder this time, but he hears no reply.

Adam turns around, pressing his back against the door. He shines the light forward. The black ash is racing across the floor. The ceiling, too. Adam stands there, watching helplessly as the blackness closes in around him. His heart pounds in his chest. As the ash reaches his feet it passes under him, moving up and around the walls until all the surfaces in the room are blanketed. Then… nothing. Adam looks around, waiting for something to happen. He pants heavily, pressing his hand to his heart. The pipes seem to rattle louder now. Deep groans reverberate around the room.

Suddenly, a distinct, dreadful sound pricks Adam's ear. _Oh, God!_ Footsteps, dragging across the ashen floor. Through the din and rattle of the pipes he can already hear that familiar crackling. He shines his light in the direction of the sound. One of the androgynes from the motel comes out from behind a water tank, wielding a large, jagged knife. Another sound. Then another. Two of the schoolgirls come out of the darkness, dragging their pipes along the floor. Another sound. A second androgyne, near the back wall. And, in the corner next to it, a nun.

Adam drops his bag to the floor, and puts the flashlight through a belt loop. He grabs his crowbar with two hands, clutching it like a baseball bat, while the monsters close in around him.


	5. Chapter 5: The Other World (Adam)

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Attention: When I upload the next part, I'm going to CHANGE THE RATING TO 'M' (for Mature) due to DISTURBING IMAGERY and SEXUAL SITUATIONS.**

**Note on Chapter V: Chapter Five is mostly action. Some puzzles are solved, but most of the puzzles are solved in the next chapter. The next chapter will be pretty disturbing, but it will really advance the story. This chapter will contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**V.**

Adam grips his crowbar tight, and advances on the nearest androgyne. The androgyne swipes at Adam, who dodges backwards. Adam swings, hitting it in the side of the head. His blow leaves a large indentation in its temple, but doesn't kill it. The things swings at him again, narrowly missing him. Adam returns, swinging down on its head again with all his strength. The crowbar sinks deep into its head, partially tearing the soft tissue over its skull. The monster collapses, dark blood bubbling from its mangled cranium.

Adam looks around. The remaining monsters have closed in more, moving faster than they had before. Between them and all of the pipes, tanks, and clutter he's running out of room to manoeuvre. Two schoolgirls corner Adam. He takes three quick steps towards the closer of the two, taking a wide baseball stance and swinging wildly at its face. Her head snaps sideways, the bar leaving a deep indentation in her face. But, rather than falling forward, the creature swings back immediately - hitting Adam in the ribs with significant force. Adam kicks her in the chest, sending her staggering back several feet, then falling to the floor. The second androgyne passes the fallen schoolgirl with long, awkward strides. _They're so much stronger than they were before. _

The second schoolgirl steps forward to take her shot at Adam. Swinging for his head, Adam manages to duck at the last second, the lead pipe connecting only sightly. Grabbing the crowbar by its bloodied hook-end, Adam lunges forward, stabbing the schoolgirl through the neck. Bleeding profusely, the creature swings at him again, hitting him solidly above the ear. Adam pushes her back, with his weapon still lodged in its neck. Then, as the androgyne swings at him, Adam jumps back. He races backwards until he hits the concrete wall.

Now, between rows of pipes and water tanks running on either side of him, he finds himself boxed in with no weapon. Instinct kicks in. Adam sprints forward, tackling the androgyne. They hit the ground heavily, Adam pinning the monster. He wrenches the knife from its hand and starts wildly, rapidly, viciously stabbing the creature in the face - its arms and legs convulsing as he does so. Adam jumps to his feet, his face and clothes cover with blood. He lunges at the first schoolgirl, sinking his knife into the top of its head. The nun stabs its silver cross upwards into Adam's chest, managing to pierce his skin through his jacket.

"Aaaaghh!" Adam screams, falling backwards against a pipe. The schoolgirl Adam stabbed collapses backwards, knife still lodge in its head. Adam can feel his strength waning, fatigue setting in. The second schoolgirl stands over him, the crowbar still lodged in its neck. It raises its pipe high over its head. Adam raises his hands up to protect himself. The pipe sails downward, breaking through his block with enough momentum to hit the top of his head with a heavy blow. Adam grabs the pipe as she draws it back, and pulls the schoolgirl forward, falling on top of him. Adam twists and rolls on top of her. He begins reigning punches down on her. Her face bends inward with every punch, and, after the third, his fist sinks into her skull and her convulsing body suddenly goes limp.

Adam dashes forward as the nun swings her knife at the back of his head. Standing, his legs quake and his knees start to buckle. His head is throbbing. His flashlight has fallen out on the floor and he can only scarcely make out the nun's figure. _Okay, one big push._ Adam stumbles forward, and grabs the nun's knife-hand around the wrist. Adam thrusts the heel of his hand under its chin, snapping its head backwards. Then he grabs its shoulder, pushing and pulling it, struggling to wrestle it to the ground. Finally, the nun falls, with Adam on top of her. The monster presses its free hand against Adam's face as he pulls the cross from the other. He takes the silver cross and stabs the nun in the face. Once. Twice. Each successive stroke leaves a square puncture wound in its face. Three stabs. Four. The nun goes limp.

Adam lies on top of the nun for several minutes, too exhausted to move. His head, arms, and chest ache. Warm blood runs down his chest. Then, he struggles to his feet, walking back towards the door. He runs his hand over his face, the side of his head, the back of his neck. It's all wet. His head, and his clothes, are covered with his blood and the blood of the monsters. He staggers blindly into the darkness, too delirious to think coherently. His legs feel like jelly beneath him. His head is spinning. Stopping, he sways back and forth involuntarily. Then, Adam collapses to the floor.

Adam is walking down a long corridor, between two pink, velvet drapes. The corridor seems to stretch on for miles. At the end of this long, narrow passageway, he sees a light. Standing still, Adam moves forward down the corridor, as if he is standing on a conveyor belt. Looking down he sees a ball of white fabric, sitting at his feet. Adam bends down to pick it up. His hands unfold the item which sat before him. Realising what it is, he gasps, then drops it - as though he has been caught with stolen property. Adam gazes down on it with a shocked, plaintiff expression. Resting on the floor are a pair of white, cotton panties, with a spot of blood in the centre.

Adam stands in a bedroom. On the opposite side of a large bed, a woman in a wedding dress is hunched over - her back to Adam. Her body is heaving, as though she is silently crying. Adam walks around the bed, trying to console her but unable to make a sound. As he comes around the bed he sees the woman's thin arms trembling, He steps in front of her. Her veil hangs over her face and hands, which are pressed against her face as she cries. Adam pulls her veil back over her hair. An expression of abject terror comes across his face.

The bride's hands fall on her lap. Her face is pale, her lips are blue - they're split and cracked. Blue veins are visible through her translucent skin, criss-cross over her face. The woman's eyes are sunken deep into their blackened sockets. They appeared dry and glazed, with heavy white cataracts over her iris. Patches of skin on her cheeks and forehead are rotting, the patches are black and green. They bubble open, and maggots begin to pour from the holes.

With an expression a retributive judgement, she stares back at Adam. Her mouth stretches wide open and her blue tongue wriggles against her teeth. Blood begins to pour from her mouth, staining the purity of her immaculate dress. The sound of blaring, shrieking radio static fills the room. Adam stumbles backwards, waving his arms in front of him in self defence. He falls into an ocean of warm, viscous, transparent white fluid. Adam kicks his legs and tries to swim to the surface, but the rotting bride rises from the depths; and, grabbing him by his ankles, pulls him into the darkness below.

"Adam?"

Adam wakes up on the boiler room floor. He opens his eyes slowly, blinking twice. Elizabeth sits over him, looking down on him with a concerned expression. He turns his head slowly. His head is resting on his folded leather jacket, lying next to him a first-aid kit, a bottle of peroxide, a bundle of bandages, and other assorted medical presses his hands against the floor, trying to sit up.

"Whoa, whoa," Elizabeth says, pressing her hand against his chest, "Not so fast, hun."

He feels her skin on his. He looks down to see his dress shirt un-bottoned and spread open. On the left side of his chest there a large purple bruise; and, above it, a square of white cotton, held to his skin with a bandage wrapped around his chest. A little blood, from where he was stabbed, has soaked threw the bandage. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up past his elbows revealing the bruises and welts on his forearms.

"You had me worried," Elizabeth says, leaning forward on one arm, wearing a slight, sympathetic smile.

With a painful groan, Adam turns on his side, facing Elizabeth. As he props himself up a rosary slides across his chest, it hangs from his neck. Adam takes it in his hand, looking down on it with a bewildered expression.

"Did you put this on me?" Adam asks Elizabeth.

"No," she responds, tilting her head and creasing her forehead, giving him a look of confused amusement. Shaking her head, she continues, "Why would I… You had it on when I, uh, tried to dress your wound."

Adam looks down at the rosary. The large loop is strung with chocolate-coloured wooden beads, which are joined in the middle with a flat brass oval. Another series of beads comes down, and, from it, hangs a brass crucifix. Looking down at it, Adam is unable to draw forth any memories or emotions. He knows he's worn one before, but at the moment it seems to hold no particular relevance. Foggy memories from his childhood slip into his mind. Images of priests, churches, stained glass windows. Elizabeth clears her throat.

"You've been walking 'round all this time, and you never noticed a cross around your neck?" she asks.

"It's a rosary," Adam says plainly.

He groans again sitting upright. The room is back to normal. No more black ash. Adam runs his hand through his hair, he finds two bandages cuts on his head. One on each side of his head. On top of his head Adam feels a long gash, which is stitched up.

"Don't touch that!" Elizabeth says, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away.

"I was stuck out there for, like, an hour," Elizabeth explains, gesturing towards the door, "I stood there banging on the door and screaming… After a long time, I pushed on the door and it just… opened. I came in to look for you and I found you here lying on the floor bleeding, so I ran upstairs and found a room with bandages and stuff. I ran back down and started cleaning and bandaging you. Most of the cuts weren't too bad, the cut on your chest was just a flesh wound, but you had this huge gash on your head… I honestly thought you were gonna die… So I poured some peroxide over the gash and stitched it up… Since then I've been cleaning all the blood off your face and chest, and just waiting, hoping you'd wake up."

As she finished her piece, she leaned forward and began to button his shirt back up. Her lips were quivering and she sniffled slightly, her eyes tearing up. Adam puts his hand to hers, signalling for her to stop, and finishes buttoning his shirt himself.

"Well," says Adam groggily, "you may have saved my life… can you help me up?"

Elizabeth grabs his hand and he stands up with a faint grunt. She bends down, grabbing his jacket, unfolding it, and sliding it over his arms. He shuffles towards the door. Elizabeth grabs his shoulder bag and hands it to him, along with the crowbar which she had placed on top of it. Adam lets out a long sigh.

"I guess we go upstairs now," Adam says.

"I guess so," Elizabeth replies.

Adam grabs the rail and starts climbing up the dark stairwell. He walks slowly, still a little disoriented from the attack. They come to the top of the stairs. Looking down the hall, Adam sees a series of rooms, and a left hand turn halfway down. At the intersection by the turn, the head office, which has large windows along its front wall. Adam walks directly to the office, bypassing the first few rooms. Stepping up to the windows, they look inside, Adam flashing his light around. The room is empty. It's filled with desks, typewriters, photocopiers - typical office supplies. At the back, a door, presumably the principal's office. Adam checks the office door, which is locked.

"I guess we'll have to find the key," Elizabeth says.

Adam smashes the window with his crowbar. He reaches in around the other side of the door, turning a padlock. Pulling his arm out he opens the door, turning to Elizabeth with a self-satisfied, mischievous smile.

Entering the office they begin to look around. Adam ruffles through some papers on a desk while Elizabeth looks over the room. She lifts up the top of the photocopier, opens and closes a few filing cabinets, and looks over some plants in the room. Adam opens the desk drawers, finding nothing of particular interest. Elizabeth sees a peg on the wall. She walks over and finds a shiny silver key with a triangular black leather keychain. She reads it.

"Hey, Adam," she says as Adam turns and nods. "Key to the music room."

She tosses him the key, which he throws in his bag.

Walking to the back of the room, Adam comes to the door to the principal's office. He opens the door and steps inside. The room is neatly organised, with all the things one would typically expect to find in a principal's office. A large desk, some filing cabinets, a fern in the near corner, and adjacent to the desk a window. A pale midnight glow is coming through the blinds, casting long, horizontal shadows across the room. Behind the principal's desk, mounted on the wall, is a large portrait of St. Dominic robed in white. He's holding up one hand, and holding a Bible in the other - a circle, like a halo, sits behind his head. There is a statuette of The Virgin Mary on the corner of the desk.

Adam steps to the window, parting the blinds, and looks outside. His eyes fall over a large courtyard, opposite the one he came in, this one also walled off - but with no entrance. This courtyard is grassy, with trees, shrubs, and stone tables around. In the centre, there is a large stone fountain with a brass statue in the middle. Adam steps back from the window, then turns around.

He sees a small safe sitting under the portrait of St. Dominic. He kneels in front of it. The safe has a four-digit code. Adam looks up at the portrait above. _St. Dominic died in 1221._ Taking a blind guess, Adam enters the number 1221 - he hears a click. Adam turns the handle and opens the door. Inside the safe, he finds a manilla envelope. He takes it and opens it. Pulling out the contents, the first things he sees is a colour portrait - a print of an oil painting. It's a young woman, fair-skinned. She wears a wreath of flowers atop her head, holding up her deep auburn hair. She sits in a wooden chair, playing a piano. The woman's face and demeanour conveys an image of purity and self-abnegation. She has a virginal appearance. Adam reads the caption. _Portrait of St. Cecilia._ Adam takes it and places it at the back so he can look at the next item. Under the portrait, there are two more documents. The first is titled, "Prayer to St. Cecilia", the second "St. Caecilia, Virgin and Martyr: Patroness of Musicians - from the Liturgical Year, 1901".

Skimming over the documents, Adam immediately recognises them, as he had before with the biography on St. Dominic. He puts the the print and documents into his bag and slowly rises to his feet. Elizabeth steps into the doorway.

"Did you find anything?" Elizabeth says.

"We need to go back and start checking all the rooms," Adam says, after a pause.

Adam leads Elizabeth out of the office. They backtrack to the door to the stairwell. They move down the hall, checking the doors as the go, alternating from one side of the hall to the other. The first three rooms don't appear to have anything of interest. Coming to the fourth door, Adam opens the door, shining his light inside. He sees a schoolgirl standing, frozen, holding a rusty pipe. Adam throws the door open, sprinting towards the school girl. He raises his crowbar high over his head, smashing the monster's head and kicking it to the ground before it has the opportunity to react. As its blackened blood pools on the floor, Adam and Elizabeth search the room, again finding nothing of particular interest. They make they're way out of the room and come to the intersection.

Walking straight, they stop halfway down the second leg of the hallway. On their right, they see more, classrooms, on their left, a single door. _Music Room._ Adam glances at Elizabeth. He puts a hand in his bag, retrieving the key. He puts it in the keyhole, and, turning it, he hears a click. Adam turns the knob and pushes the door open, waving his flashlight into the darkness. Inside the room, there are a dozen or more music stands off to one side. On the other side, there is a riser with a blackboard on the wall and an upright piano in the centre. To the sides there are some shelves with music books, and a tall lamp. They walk inside, Elizabeth closing the door behind them. Adam steps on the riser, turning on the lamp, while Elizabeth walks towards the music stands. Stepping to the shelves, Adam glances over the books. The collection consists primarily of Christian hymns, with a few musicals, a Beatles songbook, and some other more contemporary music. He steps over to piano. Lifting the fallboard, Adam plays a C Major, then a G Major. _The piano is perfectly in tune._

"Do you play?" Elizabeth asks from a cross the room.

"Apparently so," Adam replies flatly.

She makes her way over as Adam rifles through his bag.

"I play piano, too," Elizabeth says, stepping up on the riser, "I used to be in a choir at my school - sang, played piano."

Adam pulls a few papers from his bag and spreads them over the piano's music stand. He sits down and plays the first few chords, somewhat awkwardly. After a few chords, he catches the flow, playing with relative proficiency. Elizabeth sits on the end of the piano, by the high keys, and reads the title of the piece. _"Hymn of St. Dominic"_.

"Hold on," she says, "Start from the top."

Adam stops, and going back to the beginning, strikes the opening chords to the song. As the first bar ends, Elizabeth joins in, singing, and playing the melody on the high keys:

_Thou who, hero-like, hast striven _

_For the cause of God and heaven! _

_Dominic, whose life was given_

_Sinners to recall. _

_Saint of high and dauntless spirit, _

_By thy vast unmeasured merit, _

_By thy name which we inherit, _

_Hear us when we call._

_Flower of chastity, the fairest _

_Of her lily buds thou bearest, _

_Snow-white as the robe thou wearest, _

_Gift from hands divine. _

_With thy brow of starry splendour, _

_With thine eyes so mild and tender, _

_Mary's client-truth's defender, _

_To our prayers incline. _

_Great Apostle, ever claiming _

_Souls for Jesus-by the naming _

_Mary and her Son proclaiming _

_Mysteries of faith; _

_Still, O Dominic, the preaching _

_Of those childlike beads is reaching_

_Childlike hearts all sweetly teaching _

_Christ's own life and death. _

_With those Aves, first and plainest _

_Of the Church's prayers, thou rainest _

_Blessings on the earth and gainest _

_Souls whom Jesus made. _

_Loving Father I at thy station _

_Of seraphic contemplation, _

_In each hour of dark temptation, _

_Give thy saving aid._

As the final chord slowly decays, Adam and Elizabeth fall silent for a while. Adam recognises the song, but he's unable to place it. Playing through the piece, he was overcome with emotions. A deep feeling of dread hit him in the pit of his stomach. He felt deep guilt, melancholy, and a longing, desperate feeling.

Suddenly, they both perk their ears, as they hear a low, howling sound. Adam strains to interpret it. _Wind?_ Adam rises from the piano.

"Can you tell what that is?" Adam asks.

"It sounds like wind," Elizabeth returns.

As they make their way back to the door, Adam continues to try to hear the sounds outside the building. _That's definitely the wind… sounds like a raging storm._

With wind howling around the building they cross the hall to check the rooms opposite. Searching them somewhat haphazardly, they find nothing remarkable. They make their way to the T-section and walk down the final leg of the 2nd floor. Criss-crossing from door to door they check all the classrooms. They are all empty, for the most part, with crucifixes at the front of the classrooms and an occasional portrait of St. Dominic or the Virgin Mary. In the last room on the right, they encounter a nun, which Adam quickly slaughters, bludgeoning its soft skull with his crowbar. But this room, too, is empty. Adam and Elizabeth exit the room and head down the corridor.

Reaching the end of the hallway they come to a pair of heavy mahogany doors. The large, brass doorhandles are shaped like seashells and have a large, heavy padlock. Above the doorhandles, the image of a heart with light emanating from it, wrapped around the heart a crown of thorns, and, coming from the top, flames and a wooden cross. _That's the Sacred Heart of Jesus._ The door is arched, like the one at the entrance, but this one is elaborately engraved. Adam tries the door.

"It's locked," he says.

"Any idea where we could find the key?" Elizabeth asks.

Adam pauses, analysing the door.

"No idea."

Elizabeth steps up to the door, looking over its design. She stops on the heart.

"Do you know what this heart is?" Elizabeth asks.

"Yeah… It's the Sacred Heart of Jesus - a Catholic symbol," Adam answers, scratching his chin. "I know there's something I'm supposed to remember… But I can't put my finger on it."

Adam turns his back to the door, peering at the ground. _What was it?_ Suddenly, Adam recalls the writing on the chalkboard; and, as he does so, the image of the girl's mutilated corpse flashes through his mind. _What did it say, again?_

"There was something about the Sacred Heart… written on a chalkboard downstairs," Adam begins. "What did it say… Uh, there was a girl… with the Sacred Heart within her… No, I can't remember. I'm gonna have to go downstairs and read it again."

"Can I come with?" Elizabeth asks.

"Uh, no, you better stay here… You don't want to see what's in there."

"Okay," Elizabeth replies, interpreting from the expression on his face that whatever he was referring to was serious.

"I'll be right back," Adam says, walking hurriedly down the corridor.

Adam reaches the doors to the stairwell and throws them open. He races down the darkened stairwell, out the first-floor door, and back to the room where he had seen the poem. Opening the door, he steps inside, apprehensively. A knot forms in his stomach. Adam shines the light on the blackboard, careful to avoid the corpse in the corner of the room.

He reads the poem again, out loud:

"There is a humble Catholic girl, chaste as she is pure

Without idleness nor unclean thoughts she toils

The Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ lies waiting deep inside her

The love of God on High her only spoils"

Adam stands still before the blackboard, contemplating the riddle. _Oh, Jesus._ A dread sweeps over him. He drops his arm to his side, pointing his flashlight at the floor, and places his other hand over his mouth. _It can't…_ His knees begin to wobble, nausea swells within him. _God, no… Please!_ Summoning his strength, Adam turns, pointing his flashlight towards the corpse in the corner of the room. The lifeless body sits on the wooden chair, with its arms tied behind its back and its head hanging back. As Adam stares at the girl's mouth, propped wide open, secured with barbed wire, the third line of the poem runs through his mind over and over:

_The Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ lies waiting deep inside her._


	6. Chapter 6: Purgatory

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter VI: I've changed the rating to 'M' for reasons that will become pretty obvious. Sorry for the delay, but we're having a _brutal _heat wave wear I live and I haven't been in the proper headspace. In this chapter, ALL previously established puzzles are solved. This is a PIVOTAL point in the story. This chapter will contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**VI.**

Under the light, the body of the dead girl casts a high shadow against the wall. While the corpse is slouched back over chair, its shadow seems to sits upright - looking down on its host. The blood over her shirt and tie, over her skirt, has dried into a dark, flaky crust. The large dry puddle around the chair resembles a large flat scab on the floor. Adam steps closer, hesitantly. The girl's legs are tied to the legs of the chair, around the ankles, with what looks like telephone wire. Her hands are tied behind the chair with rope. Adam steps right up to the body. Looking down on her he can see that all of her visible skin has been shaved away, with what was probably a small knife or straight razor. Her crimson flesh has a pattern of long vertical strokes across it, with a few thin, oblong, diamond shaped shreds of skin that the person who skinned her had missed. On the top of her head, there are a few tiny patches of scalp left, with strands of hair hanging from them. Her eyelids are gone. Her bulging eyeballs are almost entirely visible. Dried and crusted over, they seem to stare with terror, or surprise, at the ceiling. Her lips and cheeks are gone, too. All of the teeth in her mouth are visible, though they are smeared with blood.

Adam points the light down her throat. The girl's tongue has been cut off. Adam's face contorts with horror and pity. He puts his hands on his knees, bending forward, and draws in a deep breath. Holding it in for a moment he exhales and stands upright again.

"Okay, okay…" Adam exhales.

Pointing his flashlight at her face, Adam raises his left hand and lowers it into the girls mouth. As soon as he touches her mouth he draws his hand back. The inside of her mouth is dry, with a bumpy, leathery texture. Adam's mouth twists in disgust. He can feel a gagging sensation in his throat. He exhales then reaches back in. As his hand touches its flesh again he squeezes his eyes shut, groaning. He pushes his fingers down into its throat. He feels nothing. Drawing in a breath, he pushes down forcefully. His fingers going down her throat as far as they'll go - his knuckles press right against her uvula. Still nothing.

Adam yanks his hand back, spins around, and curls over. His body begins heaving as he gags twice. _Jesus fucking Christ!_ Although he doesn't puke Adam has the impulse to spit, the sensation that there is something vile he needs to purge. He spits twice on the floor. Pacing away from the corpse, Adam holds his hand away from his body.

"Ugh! God damn it!" Adam spins round and kicks the teacher's desk, "Fuck this shit!"

Adam leans up against a students desk, still holding his hand away from his body. _ Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck does that shit mean? The key is "inside her"? Bullshit!_ Adam turns his head over to the corpse. His expression goes blank. He sees her legs tied to the chair. His lips begin to quiver and his face contorts.

"No, no, no," He shakes his head from side to side, "Fuck no! Fuck no!"

Adam grabs the desk in a violent rage, flipping it over - slamming it into the desk next to it.

"Fuck that!" He screams, his voice shaken and exasperated.

He paces rapidly, back and forth, then pressing his forearm to his brow, draws in a series of deep breaths. _This is just a dream._ Adam exhales, resignedly, and walks back to the corpse with slow, heavy steps. He kneels in front of it. Adam shines the light up under her skirt. _Jesus._ Adam draws in one last breath. He raises his left hand, like before, and moves his hand under her skirt. He immediately snatches it back.

"Fuck!" Adam turns his face away, drawing in a long breath, then releasing it, "Okay."

He puts his hand up her skirt again. A shock of revulsion runs through his body when he comes in contact with her cold, soft flesh. Clenching his teeth, he feels around with his fingers for an opening. Finding one, he puts a finger inside, feeling around for something metallic. Nothing. Adam begins gagging. Knowing if he pulls his hand out, he won't be able to do this again, Adam pushes his hand in deeper. His four fingers enter the carcass. Still nothing. Adam starts hyperventilating, as though he's about to have an anxiety attack. He gives one last push, his knuckles pushing through the opening. His hand slides in a little more easily once his knuckles get inside. His hand slides in all the way to his wrist. His middle finger touches something metallic. He pushes inward a quarter-inch more, retching and gagging as he does so, and grabs the object between his index and middle fingers. _It feels like a key_. Adam begins to slowly draw his hand out. He starts to gag more frequently. As he pulls his hand loose, the key slips from his fingers. Adam puts his thumb and forefinger back inside, and pulls the key out. He immediately drops the key on the floor. Pressing both hands against the linoleum flooring, Adam gags several times and then begins to puke. His body retches violently.

Springing to his feet abruptly, Adam runs out the door - leaving the key behind. He runs down the hall and into the bathroom. Adam turns the sink on, all the way, but only a small stream comes from the faucet. He puts his hands under the water, rubbing them together frantically. As he does so, his mind is clouded with the images, the textures of the carcass in the classroom. He begins to gag again. Adam puts his head under the faucet and fills his mouth with water. It has a rusty, sour flavour to it. Adam throws his head back, gargles, then spits into the sink. Standing over the sink, with his hand pressed against the counter, Adam tries to collect himself. He can feel his legs trembling. The dead, rubbery flesh still seems to wrap his hand. He rubs his hands off on his jeans then exits the bathroom.

Heading back, his body moves down the hall, back to the room where he had left the key. Adam stares at the floor, bends down to grab the key, but doesn't dare to look up at the body he had raided. Turning to leave the room, Adam slowly makes his way back to the stairwell. Climbing the stairs, Adam feels as though he is bearing a massive cross on his back. He makes his way down the hall, back to Elizabeth. She glances at the key in his hand.

"Is that it?" she says.

Adam puts the key into the lock; and, turning it, hears a dull, metallic click.

"Where'd you find it?" Elizabeth asks.

"Don't ask," Adam replies coldly.

He pushes the doors open into a small chapel. The chapel has tall, grimy windows, overlooking the entrance way. It is carpeted in an eggplant or mauve. Atop a small riser, facing the door, is the preacher's pulpit. A small, modest, rosewood stand with a small cross emblazoned in the centre. Behind the pulpit, a few candles and other religious paraphernalia. Sitting atop the pulpit, Adam sees a small black pouch. Stepping up onto the riser, Adam walks around the pulpit, positioning himself as though he's about to deliver a sermon. The black pouch is about a foot in length. Adam grabs it with one hand and unzips it with the other. He reaches inside. His eyes begin to tear up and his face contorts as he struggles to restrain himself from crying. His hands draw out six worn paintbrushes. The paintbrushes show signs of significant usage. The bristles are frayed and stained. The handles have indentations in them, with chips and wear in the lacquer. Looking down at these paintbrushes, a deep sorrow wells up in Adam, as a vivid memory comes into his mind.

He stands in a small room, with large windows across three of its walls. The afternoon sun shines in, giving the room an almost heavenly glow. It is disordered, with art supplies scattered around, on the floor. Paint spatter tables and shelves with large art books. In the corner of the room, a pair of paint-stained easels. A woman with sandy-blonde hair is sitting on the hardwood floor. Her bare legs folded to one side, she leans on one arm, hunched over a large canvas. Adam comes up behind her. She's wearing a large flannel shirt, with a white t-shirt under it - both too large to be her own. Looking over her Adam feels content, he's in love. He calls out to her. She snaps her neck around, startled, but then smiles when she sees him. She looks up at him, glowing, with a moon-eyed expression. Her lips begin to move as she greets him. She has an eccentric look to her, with messy, disordered hair which is parted unevenly, strands arching up on one side. Her eyes are bright and blue, but with a slightly wild, disconnected look. Her wide smile is crooked, the right corner of her lips curl up more than the left, giving her a wily, mischievous expression.

Adam sits on the floor beside her, turned to face her. They exchange a quick kiss and she turns to look at her painting, gesturing and talking enthusiastically about her work. There are small spots of blue and white paint dried to her chin and a little on the tips of a lock of hair. Adam watches her, nodding periodically, and turning to look at her painting. On her large canvas, there is an unfinished painting of a pair of deer, the female rubbing its head against the male's neck, standing in a bright, idyllic, lush green forest. The paint has a vaguely surreal, impressionistic look to it. The woman finishes her enthusiastic speech somewhat breathlessly. Adam laughs slightly, and, kissing her on the cheek, gets up and leaves as the woman continues painting.

Elizabeth places a hand on Adam's shoulder.

"Did you find what you need?" she says softly.

"Yeah," Adam replies, putting the paintbrushes back in the pouch and putting the pouch in his bag. They walk silently out from the room, making their way back to the stairwell. Adam turns over the memory in his mind over and over. _Who was that woman? Somebody so important to me, yet I can't remember anything about her. What was her name? When did we part ways? Where is she now?_ Adam and Elizabeth turn down the hall when they reach the bottom of the stairs. Walking to the intersection, they come to a pair of double doors labeled "Exit". Through the doors, they hear no sound. _The wind must have stopped._ Adam pushes open the doors and they walk outside.

The rear courtyard is lush, with a variety of trees, shrubs, and a thick, untended lawn. In this town of perpetual night, the courtyard seems to glow with a lunar incandescence. There are granite picnic tables and benches around; and, in the centre of the courtyard, a statue of Jesus Christ, in the middle of the fountain. The fog has been cleared by the wind completely, and they can see all around them with total their eyes scan the courtyard only briefly, before they are drawn skyward. In synchronicity, Adam and Elizabeth turn their heads upwards. The sky is completely clear and they can see the firmament in its entirety. No stars. They gaze up in awestruck horror. No moon. No planets. Nothing but an infinite void.

"This is just a dream," Adam says under his breath, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Adam… What's going on?" Elizabeth asks, voice shaken.

"This is just a dream," Adam repeats, more to himself than her.

He grabs Elizabeth's arm leading her toward the fountain. Reaching it, Elizabeth sits on the edge, staring at the sky, as Adam analyses the statue in the centre. Its a statue of Jesus, sitting on a throne with clouds around him. Adam reads a placard at its feet: _Christ In His Throne Among The Clouds._ In front of the placard Adam notices three round holes, roughly the diameter of a quarter. Around the statue there is moat of murky water._ This is from St. Dominic's legend… How did that paragraph go?_ Adam wracks his brain for a moment, hand clasped to his chin, then it comes back to him:

_One night, when St. Dominic prayed in the church of St. Peter, he saw Christ sitting on a throne in the clouds, surrounded by indescribable splendor. He held three spears in his hand to punish the world with three chastisements, famine, war and pestilence…_

_There were three statues in the front courtyard bearing the titles "famine", "war", and "pestilence". _Adam taps Elizabeth on the shoulder.

"Hey, Liz,"

"Uh huh," she replies, staring into the sky.

"I have to run to the front quickly."

"Sure," she mutters.

Adam pulls the doors open and races down the hall way. Reaching the front entrance, he pushes open the doors and jumps down the steps. He paces up to the statue in the centre. _Grand Master Jacque de Molay, Templar of War. _While the statue is stone, the spear in his hand stands out conspicuously, being made of black iron. Adam grabs the spear and turns it. _It's loose._ Adam grabs the spear and slides it upwards, pulling it out from the statues hands. Adam walks to the other two statues, labeled "Famine" and "Pestilence". Adam grabs the spears. He races back up the stairs, pulls open the doors, and goes down the hallway to the exit on the opposite end. He opens the doors into the rear courtyard. Elizabeth briefly glances at him when she hears the doors open, but then immediately looks back up at the sky. Carrying the three iron spears to the fountain, Adam places them into the holes. As the third spear slides in, Adam hears a loud click. Bubbles begin rising to the surface of the moat, directly in front of the spears. The water begins to lower. Adam and Elizabeth watch the water as it slowly drains from the fountain. The last of the murky water drains into a square hatch, which apparently opened when he inserted the spears. Lying at the bottom of the fountain, they see a ziploc bag, containing a book.

"A book?" Elizabeth says, quizzically, looking at Adam.

Adam grabs the bag. Pulling open the zipper seal, Adam pulls out the book. It's a bright, silver book, with gold lettering embossed on the cover. _Dante Purgatorio._ The third in the set. _That's all of them… The three books of Dante's 'Divine Comedy'._ Adam walks towards the school, placing the book in his bag.

"Come on," he instructs, "I have an idea."

Walking into the school, Adam turns right and heads down to the janitors office. Inside the office, Adam grabs an iron trash can. He fills it with a bunch of rags, taking one rag and placing it in his pocket. Adam grabs a large can of lighter fluid and takes the trash can out into the hall. Setting it down he begins spraying the lighter fluid into it, soaking the rags.

"What _are_ you doing?" Elizabeth asks, perplexed.

"All of the clues… They follow the legends around St. Dominic - which I read in a biography left in a folder with my name on it - back at the hospital," Adam begins, "There was one story, in which, St. Dominic verifies the Bible by putting it in a fire with another holy book… The other book burned while the Bible floated in the air, unscathed."

Adam sets the lighter fluid on the floor and takes out the rag from his pocket. Adam grabs his lighter, and, lighting it, holds the flame to the rag until it catches fire. He tosses the burning rag into the trash can. A short burst of flames shoot up from the trash can, then subside. They wait momentarily for the fire to catch hold and build up.

As the fire builds, Adam reaches into his bag and pulls out 'Paradiso'. He throws it into the trash can. Instantaneously, the book catches fire. The cover begins to warp and curl back. The pages blacken around the edges, curling and retracting. Adam and Elizabeth watch the book burn; and, after only a few moments, it is entirely consumed. Adam reaches back into his bag. He takes out 'Purgatorio' and 'Inferno'. He casts them into the fire. Lying, side by side, 'Inferno' catches fire immediately. Its cover begins to warm just as the previous book had; but, 'Purgatorio', rather than catching fire, sits unscathed. As they watch, 'Inferno' is incinerated with remarkable speed, but 'Purgatorio' sits as if immune to the flames. Another few moments pass, and the first two books are reduced to ashes. 'Purgatorio' however, shows not even the faintest signs of exposure. The flames lick around it, but to no affect.

Adam and Elizabeth stand on either side of the trash can, looking down on it silently. The fire casts and orange glow across their faces.

"What does it mean?" Elizabeth asks, eyes locked on the book.

"It means… This is _Purgatory_," Adam replies.

"_Purgatory_?" says Elizabeth, in a disconsolate tone. "Like, _Hell_?"

"No," Adam says, gravely, "Purgatory is temporary… You can get out of it."

"That's good, _right_?"

"Yeah," Adam sighs, "I guess it is."

Adam walks around the trash can, taking Elizabeth by the hand.

"Come on," he says, "Let's go to the motel."

They cut through the school, coming out from the front entrance. Exiting the courtyard they turn right, heading directly West. Walking down the road, under the starless sky, Adam stares upward, waiting for the hand of God to close over this horrible town. After all he's seen, all the impossible things he's experienced, Adam feels as though he is spiralling into madness. As they pass the second block, the fog begins to return, creeping in along the road. It pours in from between the buildings like an incoming flood. Androgynes appear in the streets, but are easily avoided. Several blocks from their point of departure they come to a department store. Adam directs Elizabeth towards it.

"I need to get something new to wear," Adam says, trying to maintain a resolute appearance.

His dress shirt is crusted with blood, with a small hole where he had been stabbed. His pants and jacket are also spattered with blood. Coming to the entrance of the department store, Adam tries the doors, finding them locked. He smashes the glass doors with his crowbar, reaching inside to unlock them. Leaving Elizabeth near the entrance, Adam searches the department store. He walks cautiously, weary of the possibility of a monster appearing from the darkness. Before long Adam finds a suitable change of clothes, throwing them into a duffle bag, and exiting with Elizabeth.

Continuing Westward, the fog has now almost fully returned. The haze has obscured the anomalous sky. Rounding the final blocks, They hit a stretch of working streetlights, once more casting that melancholic orange glow. Turning left, and heading Southwards, the orange melts into violet, as they reach the motel - this time approaching from the opposite side. Walking around the building they see another Androgyne. They jog away, rounding the corner of the building. Walking to the reception, Adam quickly glances through the window, then they walk inside. Adam checks the pegboard, finding a second floor room key and grabbing it. They jog upstairs, finding their room near the end of the walkway.

As Adam enters the motel room he throws his bags on the floor, groaning. Kicking off his shoes he staggers to a plaid, padded armchair by the window, throwing himself down. Elizabeth follows, closing the door behind her. She drops her purse next to his bags, slides off her flats, and jumps face down on the bed, burying her face in the pillows. They lie silently for awhile, horizontal shafts of violet light cutting across the room. After a few minutes Adam forces himself to rise from his chair.

"I'm going to take a shower," Adam says.

"Kay," is Elizabeth's muffled reply, face still buried in the pillows.

Adam grabs a pair of boxers from his duffel bag, dragging his feet as he walks into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and flicks on the fluorescent light. He throws his boxers over the towel rack, unbuttoning his shirt. He throws it on the floor. He unbuckles his belt, sliding it out and throwing it on the hook on the bathroom door. He removes the bandage from around his chest, taking the bloodied piece of cotton and throwing it in the trash. There is a small square puncture wound over his ribs, bruised purple around. Adam starts the shower, testing the temperature. Taking off his jeans and underwear he steps into the shower stall, pulling the curtain closed. Holding his head under the water momentarily, Adam takes a handful of shampoo, and works it into his hair. There's blood crusted in his scalp, and he can feel the stitches and cuts.

Adam has an athletic physique. With broad, square shoulders and muscular arms. Rinsing his hair, Adam lathers up a washcloth and begins to wash his face and body. Running the cloth over his ribs Adam winces a little, the soap stinging his open wound. His pecs and abs are well defined, but not sharply cut, with a trace of hair in the centre of his chest and running down from his belly button. Despite Adam's modest, conservative disposition, he's a man of surprising physical strength. Finishing his shower Adam throws his washcloth over the curtain rack, and turns off the water.

Stepping out of the shower Adam towels himself off, puts on the boxers he grabbed from the department store, rinses out his mouth with a small bottle of mouthwash, and makes his way back into the main room, towel wrapped around his shoulders. Elizabeth, sitting in the bed, leaning up against the wall, shoots Adam a quick once over.

"Um, I guess I'm going to have a shower now," Elizabeth says smirking, and shimmies off the bed. She walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

Grabbing the map from his jacket, Adam sits in the chair by the window. He opens it and turns away from the window, so the outside light can shine on it with enough strength to make its details intelligible. Getting up, he grabs his felt pen and sits back down, marking where he's been and how he got from place to place. Adam analyses the map closely, trying to find his next clue. Scanning it from North to South he finds nothing, until, coming to the Southeast corner, he sees his next location. _St. Cecelia Catholic Church._ Adam circles it, looking over for the fastest possible route.

Adam gets up, walking over to his shoulder bag. He bends down and opens it. Pulling out "St. Caecilia, Virgin and Martyr, Partroness of Musicians" he sits back in the chair. Bathed in the violet, neon glow, Adam begins to read it:

_[…] from the Liturgical Year, 1901_

_Caecilia united in her veins the blood of kings with that of Rome's greatest heroes. At the time of the first preaching of the Gospel, more than one ancient patrician family had seen its direct line become extinct. But the adoptions and alliances, which under the Republic had knit more closely the great families by linking them all to the most illustrious among them, formed as it were a common fund of glory, which, even in the days of decline, was passed on intact to the survivors of the aristocracy._

_[…]_

_Caecilia, the lawful representative of this unparalleled aristocracy, the fairest flower of the old stem, was also the last. The second century was passing away; the third, which was to see the empire fall from the hands of Septimus Severus first to the Orientals and then to the barbarians from the banks of the Danube, offered small chance of preservation for the remnants of the ancient nobility. The true Roman society was henceforth at an end; for, save a few individual exceptions, there remained nothing more of Roman but the name: the vain adornment of freedmen and upstarts, who, under princes worthy of them, indulged their passions at the expense of those around them._

_Caecilia therefore appeared at the right moment, personifying with the utmost dignity the society that was about to disappear because its work was accomplished. In her strength and her beauty, adorned with the royal purple of martyrdom, she represents ancient Rome rising proud and glorious to the skies, before the upstart Caesars who, by immolating her in their jealousy, unconsciously executed the divine plan. The blood of kings and heroes flowing from her triple wound, is the libation of the old nobility to Christ the conqueror, to the Blessed Trinity the Ruler of nations; it is the final consecration, which reveals in its full extent the sublime vocation of the valiant races called to found the eternal Rome._

_[…]_

_In an age so blindly abandoned as ours to the worship of the senses, is it not time to protest, by the strong lessons of our faith, against a fascination which even the children of the promise can hardly resist? Never, since the fall of the Roman empire, have morals, and with them the family and society, been so seriously threatened. For long years, literature, the arts, the comforts of life, have had but one aim: to propose physical enjoyment as the only end of man's destiny. […]_

_[…] St. Caecilia is one example among others offered to their admiration. But the lesson she gives is a remarkable one, and has been celebrated in every age of Christianity. On how many occasions has Caecilia inspired virtue or sustained courage; how many weaknesses has the thought of her prevented or repaired! Such power for good has God placed in His Saints, that they influence not only by the direct imitation of their heroic virtues, but also by the inductions which each of the faithful is able to draw from them for his own particular situation._

_The second characteristic offered for our consideration in the life of St. Csecilia, is that ardent zeal, of which she is one of the most admirable models; and we doubt not that here too is a lesson calculated to produce useful impressions. […]_

_What maternal tenderness Caecilia felt for the souls of her brethren, from the mere fact that she was a Christian! After her we might name a thousand others, in proof of the fact that the conquest of the world by Christianity and its deliverance from the yoke of pagan depravity, are due to such acts of devotedness performed in a thousand places at once, and at length producing universal renovation. […]_

_[…]_

_It was most probably in the year 178 that Caecilia joined Valerian in heaven, whence, a few months before, the Angel of the Lord had descended, bringing wreaths of lilies and roses to the two spouses._

_[…]_

_On the 20th October, 1599, in the course of the excavations required for the restoration of the basilica, Csecilia was once more brought forth to the admiring gaze of the city and of the world. She was clad in her robe of cloth of gold, on which traces of her virginal blood were still discernable; at her feet were some pieces of linen steeped in the purple of her martyrdom. Lying on her right side with her arms stretched before her, she seemed in a deep sleep. Her neck still bore the marks of the wounds inflicted by the executioner's sword; her head, in a mysterious and touching position, was turned towards the bottom of the coffin. The body was in a state of perfect preservation; and the whole attitude, retained by an unique prodigy during so many centuries in all its grace and modesty, brought before the eyes with a striking truthfulness Caecilia breathing her last sigh stretched on the floor of the bath chamber._

_[…]_

_From the Roman Breviary_

_Cecilia, a Roman maiden born of noble family, brought up from infancy in the teachings of the Christian faith, had vowed her virginity to God. Married against her will to Valerian, on her nuptial night she said to him, "Valerian, I am under the care of an angel who is guardian of my virginity. Do not do, therefore, anything that may arouse the anger of God against you." Valerian was disturbed by these words and did not dare touch her. He even declared that he would believe in Christ if he could see the angel. When Cecilia explained that this was impossible without baptism, he desired so ardently to see the angel that he offered to be baptized. Acting on Cecilia's advice he went to Pope Urban, who because of the persecution was at that time in hiding in the Catacomb of the Martyrs out on the Appian Way. There Urban baptized him._

The door opens and Elizabeth comes back out from the bathroom. Her damp hair lying flat against her head she steps towards the bed, with a towel wrapped around her body. Adam glances over at her. She sits on the opposite side of the bed, facing away from him. Elizabeth removes her towel. She has a thin, fragile looking body, with her spine and and ribs faintly visible. Under her towel she wears a white bra and panties. Pulling back the blankets she climbs into bed. Adam looks back down at his documents. Elizabeth props a pillow up against the wall and sits up, pulling the blanket up to her waist. She turns to face Adam.

"Are you coming?" she asks, signalling him over to the bed with a movement of her head.

"Uh, no, I have to read this," Adam replies, "In any case, I'll be sleeping in this chair."

Elizabeth nods, staring at the wall opposite the bed momentarily.

"You know, _I'd feel bad_," Elizabeth begins after a pause, "if you had to sleep in the chair there… _You can come here_, or we could switch places."

"No, don't worry about me," Adam says, somewhat awkwardly, "I don't think it would be appropriate."

"I guess you're right," Elizabeth replies flatly.

Adam looks down at his papers and begins reading where he left off:

_When Vaerian returned to Cecilia he found her at prayer and beside her an angel shining in divine splendor. He was overcome-_

"Adam?" Elizabeth says softly. Adam looks up at her.

"Yes."

"Aren't you scared?" She asks, her eyes suddenly well up with tears.

"Of course… But I'm also - _confident_… that we can get out of this place."

Adam smiles sympathetically.

"What if we can't?" Elizabeth sniffles.

"We can… We _will_. I promise you."

Elizabeth grabs her pillow, hugging it and laying on her side, looking towards Adam. The violet light from the window filters in and permeates the room. Elizabeth exhales.

"Don't you feel _overwhelmed_?" Elizabeth asks.

"Yes, I do," Adam says earnestly, "I'm more shaken than I let on."

As he says this, it occurs to Adam just how overwhelmed he is. With each disturbing turn of events, Adam suppressed his horror, his despair, by moving mechanically from one task to the next. But now, dwelling on it - this mysterious town, its monsters, its starless sky, raiding that mutilated girl, being beaten half to death - he realises just how horrific and daunting his circumstances are.

"I'm much more overwhelmed than I look."

Adam feels a panic swelling up within him. He stands up, walking through dim neon to the bed. He sits on the edge, and reaches over to Elizabeth, grabbing her hand. She starts to cry, softly.

"What a horrible dream," Adam says, his voice shaken.

Elizabeth pulls herself over to him, wrapping her arms around him, she presses her face against his chest.

"You don't need to worry though," Adam says defiantly, "we'll get out of here."

Pulling in closer, Elizabeth slides up, burying her face in his neck. Adam feels a tear roll down his chest. Pulling himself together, Adam grabs her arms softly, signally for her to let go. She moves back and they exchange a glance for a short while. Adam gets up from the bed, making his way back to the chair under the window.

"You know," Elizabeth says, apprehensively, "If you'd like, you could sleep on top of the blankets?"

"I'll be fine here," Adam replies.

Elizabeth resigns, crawling over to the other side of the bed, she pulls the blankets over her shoulders. Adam sits below the glow of the window, watching her for a moment, then he continues reading where he had left off:

_When Vaerian returned to Cecilia he found her at prayer and beside her an angel shining in divine splendor. He was overcome at the sight. As soon as recovered from his awe-inspired fright, Valerian summoned his brother, Tiburtius. He, too, was instructed by Cecilia in the faith of Christ, and after baptism by Pope Urban, saw the same angel his brother had seen. Shortly afterward both brothers bravely suffered martyrdom at the hands of the prefect Almachius, who aslo ordered the arrest of Cecilia. Almachius questioned her first about the disposal of the property of Tiburtius and Valerian._

_When Cecilia replied that all their wealth had been distributed to the poor, Almachius flew into a rage. He ordered her to be taken home to her own house to be put to death by the heat of the bath. For a day and a night she remained unharmed by its fiery breath. Then an executioner was sent for. Although he struck three blows with an axe, he was unable to sever her head, so he left her half dead. She lingered three days. Then on September 16, in the riegn of the emperor Alexander, crowned with the dual palm of virginity and martyrdom, she took her flight to heaven. […]_

Adam sighs, throwing the document on top of his shoulder bag. Turning the curtain rod, he closes the blinds, focusing the neon lights into thin horizontal shafts, which cut across the motel room. Adam looks over at Elizabeth. She's curled up in bed facing the opposite wall. Her meagre back is exposed, a single slit of purple light cuts across her - running between her shoulder blades. Adam turns to the window. Parting the blinds he looks into the foggy parking lot. Shadows move among the brine. Adam sits back, his eyes blinking as he slides in and out of sleep. _I'm going to get out of this place…_

Adam wakes with Elizabeth standing over him. Horizontal shafts of violet light cut across her naked body. He looks up at her in a dreamlike trance. She grabs Adam's hand. He stands. Half-asleep Adam is guided over to the motel bed. Elizabeth pulls the blankets over, sliding into the bed. Adam follows, pulling the blankets back over them. He slides out of his boxers, dropping them on the floor. Elizabeth moves towards him and presses her body against his, running a hand around his back. She presses her head against his chest. Adam slides a hand up her side and over her shoulder, feeling her breath on his skin. They lie still for a few moments, then, sliding up the bed she kisses Adam on the lips. She pulls back momentarily, then kisses him again. Her hand draws from his back, sliding down over his abs and between his legs. Elizabeth kisses him again, her hand coming back up over his abs.

She rolls onto her back, pressing her arms down against the bed, over her head. She gives Adam a yielding look. He leans over her kissing her twice softly, then giving her one long, aggressive kiss. He runs a hand over her small, supple chest. As Adam kisses her neck he gets on top of her, guiding her legs open with his knee. His hand runs up her arm and he locks his fingers between hers, pinning her arm against the bed. Adam kisses her chin and throat, running a hand under her he grabs her modest backside. Adam presses his hips up against hers. She's wet. Adam reaches down between them and grabs himself. He slowly pushes himself inside her, she winces, letting out an acute, painful cry. Adam slides insides inside her slowly, and reaches up - pinning both of her arms back - as Elizabeth lets out a long trembling moan. She draws her knees up. Adam draws and thrusts slowly, pressing his lips against hers.

Adam pins both of her hands down with his right hand, using his free hand to grab her thigh - pulling her thin leg up. Adam begins thrusting faster, more aggressively, Elizabeth's fragile body pinned under he passively. Suddenly, he breaks into a much faster pace, slamming up against her with reckless, unyielding aggression. With each thrust Elizabeth lets out a a short, sharp, staccato cry - out of pain as much as pleasure. Adam releases her hand and grabs the back of her neck. He pulls her left leg up over his shoulder, bending her body into an arch. Adam drives into her with frenzied passion. Elizabeth cries out, twisting her feet as he drives inside her. Then, when the pain overtakes the pleasure, she presses a hand against his chest, pushing him back gently. Adam slows, but doesn't stop, bending to kiss her over her chest.

Adam pulls out, and, guiding her firmly, she turns onto her stomach. Pulling her knees under her she raises her tail in the air, looking back at him beckoningly. Adam sits up behind her. He presses inside her again. Grabbing her around her waist Adam starts slowly bearing into her, then begins to pick up the rhythm. He runs a hand over her back briefly, then grabs her hips again. As he works himself into the hurried pace once more, Elizabeth buries her head in the mattress moaning and cursing, in pain and in pleasure. He slams against her again and again, each collision rocking her body and causing her to cry out in ecstasy. Then hitting a fever pitch, Adam stammers, sighing. His pace slows and he leans forward on one arm. Giving her a few more slow thrust, Adam leans forward, pulling her hips tight against him, and kisses her on the lower back.

Adam pulls out and falls over beside her. She turns on her back and clasps her hand between her legs. They lie there panting. Adam grabs her free hand, running his fingers between hers. Elizabeth lets out an aching moan. With tears in her eyes she shimmies over to Adam, burying herself in his arms. Adam puts his hand on her back, kissing her on the forehead, and analyses the violet, horizontal beams of light running across the motel wall.


	7. Chapter 7: The Wedding

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter VII: This chapter closes "Part One". It should answer most questions left over from the previous part. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**VII.**

A vast black vacuum. Adam walks through empty space, nothing but darkness surrounds him. Walking, his steps make no sound, his feet touch no surface, there is nothing around him to walk towards or away from; but, Adam walks hurriedly onward. Suddenly, he breaks into a sprint. He's running _away_ from something. Adam looks back. There - in the vacuum - a streetlight, shining in the darkness. But Adam runs away from the light, into the darkness. Onward he runs, but his legs sink into the darkness, which rolls up his legs and tightens around him - like cooling tar. He looks behind him to see the streetlight closing in on him. Adam struggles to pull himself from the tarry blackness. Involuntarily, his body turns to face the lamp, as it stops in front of him. There, beneath the streetlamp, a circle of light. Lying in the centre, a small silver revolver, with smoke rising from its barrel. Adam reaches over to the gun and picks it up. Turning the barrel towards himself, Adam takes two fingers, and pinches the smoke. It becomes a scarlet ribbon. Adam pulls the ribbon out from the barrel and casts it into the air. The ribbon is snatched up by a gust of wind and carried away.

Looking forward, Adam sees a long hallway with a half-opened door at the end. The hall has uncarpeted hardwood floors and white walls. Adam walks down the hallway purposefully, clutching his gun by his side. His footsteps fall with thunderous volume. He steps up to the door and pushes it open. The bedroom inside is dimly lit. The dull light seems to radiate from the floor, casting shadows up Adam's face. Sitting in front of Adam, the woman with the sandy-blond hair - the painter from his memory - sits on the bed, facing him with with a tormented, forlorn expression. She wears tight black jeans and a tight black v-neck sweater. Adam stands over her and she lies back slowly. Her arms resting at her sides, she turns her head to the left. Adam climbs on top of her and gently brushes her hair back from the side of her face. He presses the revolver against her temple, then pulls the trigger.

The bullet hole is bruised around, with deep crimson blood welling up inside it. Adam runs the back of his hand over her cheek, lovingly. The gun is gone now, and Adam grabs his ring finger, pulling off a gold wedding band. He leans over the woman, and pushes the gold ring into the bullet hole. Blood trickles from her nose.

A vast black vacuum. Adam sits on a hard wooden chair, staring into nothingness. Out of the blackness a figure materialises. A huge faceless monster, hundreds of feet tall, with long, hanging limbs. It arches over Adam, who sits in his chair gazing up at it in horror. Its long arms reach forward and a huge, pointed fingers presses into his chest. Adam buries face in his hands and shakes his head from side to side in desperate denial, but the monster stands over him in everlasting judgement.

Adam wakes up in the darkened motel room, shafts of horizontal neon light cut across the room. He sits in the armchair beneath the shuttered window. Slowly, the memory of his dream seeps back into his consciousness. _The ring._ Adam gets up from the chair and walks across the room. Picking his jacket up from the floor, he unzips the breast pocket reaching inside. He pulls out the ring he had taken out of the picture frame earlier. Walking back to the window, Adam holds the ring under the light, analysing it closely. There is something engraved inside the ring. _To my loving husband, Adam._ Adam drops his hands by his side.

"She was my wife," Adam whispers under his breath.

Adam looks over to the motel bed, the blankets on the opposite side are pulled over but no one's there. Adam walks over to the bathroom, knocking on the partly opened door.

"Elizabeth?" Adam calls out.

He pushes the door opened into an empty bathroom. _She's gone_. Adam walks to the door of the motel and opens it. A wall of fog rolls in through the doorway. He steps out onto the walkway. The fog outside is thicker than ever before. The violet clouds envelope Adam, he stretches an arm out and can barely make out his hand. He notices, however that the marks on his arms have disappeared. He looks down at his chest. The puncture wound is nothing more than a small square scar. _I've almost completely healed overnight._ Squinting into the fog, Adam returns to his search.

"Elizabeth!" Adam shouts.

Stepping back into the motel room he closes the door. Wisps of fog swirl around the floor, slowly dissipating. Adam grabs his change of clothes from the duffle bag. Sitting on the bed, he pulls on the new jeans. He slips into the new dress shirt, a blue and white, vertically striped shirt. Adam buttons up. He grabs his belt from the bathroom. Then, gathering the rest of his belongings, Adam makes his way out of his motel room and across the walkway. _Maybe she's in the reception office._ Adam walks down the stairway and around the building, coming to the office window. He leans up to the window, placing a hand against the glass. _She's not in here._ Adam turns around, straining in vain to see into the distance.

"Elizabeth!" Adam shouts, one last time.

Adam runs back upstairs, returning to his room. He pulls a scrap of paper from the St. Cecilia biography. Flipping it over, he writes a note on the blank side:

_Elizabeth,_

_When you come back to the motel STAY IN THIS ROOM_

_I will meet you here when I get back_

_- Adam_

He leaves the note on the floor in front of the door. Leaving the door ajar, Adam jogs down the stairs and into the parking lot. He starts his trek Southward bound, to the Church of St. Cecilia on the Southeast side of Silent Hill. As he crosses the street and heads down the road, the violet gradually seeps into a pervading grey.

Jogging down the middle of the road, Adam turns over his experiences again and again. He knows his name, that he's been to Silent Hill before, that he was once married, he was or is Catholic. Slowly the bigger picture is coming into focus, as the puzzle pieces fall into place. Still, so much is unknown, and Adam still has no idea who he _really_ is. One thing he knows with certainty, he has committed some serious wrong - some _crime_. His wife, from his dreams, the gun, stick out in Adam's mind. _Had I hurt her? Did I betray her?_ As he continues onward, Adam withdraws within himself, pondering his situation; meanwhile, the oppressive fog pervades relentlessly, swallowing everything around.

Several blocks onward, Adam slows his jog, then stops. A faint, rhythmic sound. Adam walks down to the intersection, peering into the fog down the adjacent street - the direction from which the sound seemed to be coming. _Deep, low, thuds._ Adam walks towards the sound. _Footsteps? They're too far apart and too loud to be footsteps? A generator. No, it's coming nearer._ An uneasy feeling comes over Adam. He steps close to a building, looking into the distance. Finally, a silhouette comes into view. A huge figure. Adam steps right up to a building, halfway behind it he watches intently. Stepping closer, the silhouette takes the form of a person. Or, like a person, but impossibly tall. It walks forward with long, booming strides. Adam retracts further behind the building, leaning to look around the corner with both hands pressed up against the wall. _Eyes._ The giants eyes glow through the fog with a pale greyish-blue light - its head turns right and left, searchingly. Adam backs away from the corner pushing himself into a doorway, looking out into the street.

The creature walks into the intersection. _Impossible._ The monster is about twelve feet tall, with a strangely proportioned body. Its huge legs are longer then the rest of its body, starting out narrow near its hips, then getting thicker at its feet, which are nothing more than flat, ill-defined stumps. Its waist is narrow and grows thick around the chest. The creatures broad, massive shoulder support is long arms. Its strong, rounded shoulder turn into thin biceps, then thick forearms, with long fingers protruding out from them, which almost stretch to the ground. Its head is small, only slightly larger than a human's.

Stopping at the centre of the intersection, the giant turns its head right, then left. Adam pushes himself deeper into the doorway. His heart racing, he stares wide-eyed at the fantastic creature and prays its pale, glowing eyes don't catch him. He draws in a breath, quietly, carefully, then holds it. The monster lurches forward suddenly, continuing in the direction it was going with long, heavy strides. As it disappears in the fog, Adam exhales and his body relaxes a little. Adam stays in the doorway for a long while, waiting until the footsteps die away entirely. _What in God's name was it?_ He steps out into the street, his heart beating in his chest. Slowly he continues onwards, being unnecessarily cautious.

As he continues towards his destination, Adam tries to focus on his puzzle, but his mind keeps jumping back to the creature in the road. Periodically, he stops to check his map. Reaching the appropriate avenue, he turns left and continues Eastward. Several blocks onward, Adam sees a tall building. _That should be it._ He breaks into a steady run.

Adam comes to a large Catholic church, with three double doors at its entrance. It's a tall brick building with two towers on either side, pyramidal structures top each tower and the central structure comes to a point in the centre. On the front wall, in the centre above the door a large, circular stained glass window, depicting St. Cecilia holding a violin. Immediately it evokes an emotional response in Adam, a remorseful, guilty feeling lingers ambiguously in the back of his mind. He walks up the wide concrete steps, towards the middle doors. Over the doors, black iron letters are mounted, reading: The Church Of St. Cecilia.

Adam pushes open the door, letting the heavy fog roll into the church. An acrid, wooden smell pervades the air. The peculiar odour strikes deep into Adam's subconscious, conjuring abstract memories, vague, indescribable emotions. He walks up the centre, between the pews. The side walls are decorated with large, stained glass windows, each one with the image of Catholic saints. Analysing them, Adam recognises a few: St. Peter, St. Dominic, St. Augustine, St. Michael. He looks right and left, checking the pews. The wooden seats are old and worn. Adam looks down at the carpet. It's a dirty old rug, thoroughly trodden, with frayed edges. Walking mechanically towards the pulpit, he realises that the carpet is purple, though in this dimly lit room the dusty old carpet barely shows its colour.

Suddenly, music comes into Adam's mind. Vague, unplaceable music. But as Adam continues forward the music becomes more clear. _Wagner. The Bridal Chorus._ He reaches the front and steps up on the riser. _This is the church where we got married. _Adam visualises it in his mind: a small gathering of friends and family, they were dressed in traditional wedding garb. _A traditional wedding, I insisted we had a traditional wedding._ Turning towards the pews Adam visualises the benches, filled with familiar faces, and the memory of his wedding day returns to him with vivid recollection.

Adam stands across from the eccentric woman, dressed in a traditional white wedding dress. Her veil over her face, he can make out her glowing expression, her beaming smile. He wears a tuxedo with his hands outstretched, holding hers. Between them, the minister holds a small pamphlet. A younger parishioner, he's clean shaven. He looks down at his pamphlet, then back up at them, and begins to read aloud:

"It is a time of celebration, for two people have come together and found mutual joy. They have shared their lives and decided to create a covenant between themselves, a partnership guided by spirit and support by our community. Adam and May ask all you in attendance in body and spirit to pledge your support and encouragement for them to keep true to their vows."

_May. Her name was May._

Adam feels her hands trembling in his. She fidgets nervously, smiling beneath her veil.

"And you begin your journey of life shared, separate beings that have come together into one light, one love. Many are the years you will share if you keep your vows, your sacred trust. May the sacred winds whisper joy into your life. May you take delight in each other for all your days. You are forever changed from this day forward. May this fire of love kindle your passions for each other throughout all your years. May your love rise anew, an eternal flame to light the day. May you grow old together and share a happy home."

Stopping, the minister places his pamphlet aside. Adam and May begin to recite, in unison a memorised passage:

"Beloved, I seek to know you, and ask for the wisdom to love you as you are. I will take joy in you and in our life together. You are to me the whispering of the tides, the seduction of summer's heat. You are my friend, my lover. Grow old and wise with me. I look forward to the life before us of rainbows and sunsets and a willingness to share all things. I love you. I adore you."

The minister turns to May.

"Do you, _May_, take Adam to be your partner in all things, to love and trust, care for and cherish?"

"I do," she replies.

The minister turns to Adam.

"Do you, _Adam_, take May to be your partner in all things, to love and trust, care for and cherish?"

"I do," Adam answers.

"Now," the minister says, "you may exchange vows."

Adam releases her hands, and reaching into his pocket pulls out a small black chest. He opens it, taking from it a gold wedding ring with a small diamond in its centre. He takes her left hand, sliding it onto her ring finger.

"I, Adam, take you, May, for my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

The minister takes a matching chest from his pocket. Opening it for May, she takes the ring, grasping Adam's left hand, and slides it onto his ring finger.

"I, May, take you, Adam, for my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

The Minister addresses the congregation:

"May we all now pause and reflect upon the beauty of these lovers, the beauty and wonder of life. We all wish these two as many days of perfect love and perfect trust that life can bring. By the legal powers of the State of Washington are these sacred vows made manifest… You may kiss the bride."

Adam draws her veil back from her face. Her eyes are filled with tears, she laughs nervously, restraining herself from crying. Adam embraces her. Pressing his lips against hers, they share a long kiss. The crowd cheers and applauds.

Adam hangs his head and sighs. Looking up, the visions of his friends and family, his priest, and his beloved wife, May, vanish from before his eyes. The darkened church bears in on him oppressively. _Silent Hill. This is the town we were married in. _He's suddenly overcome with a desperate desire to get out from the church, back into the haunted streets of Silent Hill. Adam walks to the edge of the riser, stepping down onto the well-trodden purple carpet.

Something catches Adam's eye. A piece of garbage on a bench in the front row. Stepping up to the bench he bends over to grab the scrap. It's not garbage. _A matchbook._ There are two matches left, the rest have been torn from the pack. Adam pulls over the bent and torn cover. _Sunderland Pub_. Adam tosses the matchbook back down on the bench and pulls his map from his shoulder bag. Unfolding the map, he scans it for the so-called "Sunderland Pub". _It's only a couple blocks North. Worth checking out, all my other leads have dried up._ Adam replaces his map and walks to the front entrance; and, pushing open the double doors, walks into the impenetrable fog.

Walking down the centre of the road, its only a block before Adam makes out the pub. A frosted red-and-green neon blur spreads through the fog, over the tops of the buildings. He rounds the last block, the building in full view, but rendered into a shapeless blur in the fog. Adam jogs across the street and into the parking lot of the pub. And, there the small pub stands, with a large red-and-green neon sign atop the building. _Sunderland Pub._ The sign is in perfect working order, its Yule time colour scheme would seem cheery, if it wasn't for the hellacious fog. Adam walks through the parking lot to the front door. A sign hangs from the front entrance. _Sorry, we're closed._ Adam pushes open the door. A bell over the door chimes cheerily. He steps inside.

"Stay where you are," a woman's voice says, from behind the bar.

"Okay," Adam says, the bell ringing as the door closes behind him.

"You looking for something?" she says, in a detached, careless tone.

Her voice is deep and raspy, but with a smooth, feminine quality - a voice like a chanteuse, a contralto. Her tone is disconnected but betrays a sultry quality. Adam can only make out her silhouette behind the bar. A thin woman with long black hair.

"I found… a book of matches - at the church - with the name of this pub on it," Adam places a hand in his bag, then realises he left it behind. He clears his throat, "Uh, I'm just following, the, uh, the _leads_."

"I left them there."

"Then you were at the church… Maybe we're supposed to cross paths."

"Maybe." the woman replies flatly.

Adam hears the sound of a glass being placed on wood. She raises a bottle and pours it into what Adam presumes is a shot glass. Her head is turned down to the glass, her body language conveys a withdrawn resignation. Adam takes a few steps closer to the bar.

"My name is Adam."

The woman finishes pouring her drink, then freezes momentarily, as though something has struck her interest. She raises her head to look at him.

"_Adam?"_ she repeats.

"Yes."

The woman lets out a slight, cynical laugh. She lowers her head again, and plays with her shot glass, turning it between her thumb and forefinger. Adam takes a few steps closer, tilting his head quizzically, sensing that his name has some significance for her.

"May I ask, what's _your_ name?"

The woman turns the shot glass in her hand a few times, then, raising it, she throws her head back and drinks it.

"Eve," she replies.


	8. Chapter 8: Eve's Prologue

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**NOTE: PLEASE SHOW SUPPORT! The next few chapters will be very difficult to write, as I'm essentially begining a second story. It would be good to know if people actually _like_ the story and that it would be worthwhile continuing. INPUT IS GREATLY APPRECIATED!**

******Note on Chapter VIII: Chapter 8 introduces us to the other main character, Eve. This is essentially a second prologue and is intended to create a suspenseful mystery. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**PART TWO**

**VIII.**

The sun sets behind a thick, tree-lined horizon, casting a golden glow across the sky. Just above the horizon, faint shades of pink and purple. It's mid-summer and in this coastal city it is oppressively hot. Eve stands in a yard, facing the sunset, atop a large hill which slopes gradually onward for almost a hundred yards before meeting any other buildings. Downhill from the house a long winding road to the town below. Housetops and stores are visible, peaking through the trees below. Eve looks up at the sunset, dragging her bare feet through the grass. She raises a half-empty glass of water to her lips, filled near the top with ice, and takes a drink. A drop of cold condensation rolls down the glass over fingers. It's an idyllic summer day, but Eve wears a disconsolate expression. A young woman, Eve is no more twenty years of age, but her world-wearied, jaded expression add years to her youthful visage. She walks to the white fence, bending forward to rest her arms on top of its flat posts.

Eve's long, thick, lustrous, jet-black hair, hangs almost to her shoulders - contrasting strongly with her pale, fair-skinned complexion. Tilting her head down, a few locks fall over her face. She purses her lips, emphasising her high, pronounced cheek bones, and clears her throat. Lost in thought, Eve's wide smokey-blue eyes pass over the grass in front of her. She has a tired, troubled expression, emphatically highlighted by slight lines beneath her eyes. This home being discretely separated, and Eve being something of an exhibitionist by nature, she stands in the yard in nothing but her underwear and a white, sleeveless undershirt. One strap of her shirt hangs off her thin shoulder, partly covering a sleeve of tattoos around her right bicep. Her body is markedly thin, somewhat underweight, making her ribs visible on her sides, and her hip bones stand out; but her long legs and arms are finely toned, her midriff cut and well defined. In strong contrast to her thin body, she has inordinately large breasts for her body size. Her hips are slender, though her butt is shapely, large and voluptuous in contrast, with a suggestive, perky, apple shape.

Eve's figure, her appearance, her expression and demeanour, give her a salacious, over-sexed look. Subtle movements, innocuous looks and gestures, seem to carry sexual innuendos. Her effortless, involuntary, often obliviously erogenous nature, is easily misread - misinterpreted - as propositions or signals. Below her navel, just inside her right hip, the number "66" is tattooed - it's suggestive place seems to deliberated drawn one's eyes between her legs. Bent over, leaning against the fence, her folded arms press her lush breasts together, her underwear rides up between the hills of her sumptuous behind, which is turned up suggestively. Eve, however, is entirely unaware of her lustful outward appearance. She's fraught by an internal dissonance, her mind wracked by the skeletons of her past.

The sound of radio static turns in her mind. It seems to have been following her for years. Figures from her past jump in and out of her consciousness. Her mother. Her father. The vision of a lake. In her mind, in her memory, Eve walks toward the lake, bathed in the glow of a half-moon. She carries with her a heavy load, which seems to drive her deep into the muddy banks. Her eyes are cast upwards as she looks across the lake. On the other side, bare, twisted, late-autumn trees wave threateningly in the icy wind. She steps to the edge of the lake, her feet sink deep into the mud. Watching the forest on the other side, pale, emaciated monsters crawl out from between the trees. Each of them faceless, they seem both to embolden and to judge. Eve lowers her burden into the water.

Snapping out of her waking nightmare, Eve's expression changes suddenly, as her eyes lock on to a vehicle at the bottom of the hill. Coming up the winding road, a police car, driving slowly, with no siren or lights. Eve sets her glass down on a support post, her expression unchanging. Turning around she walks back to the house, somewhat hurriedly, though she acts preparedly. She opens the door into a quaint, traditionally decorated home. She heads up a flight of carpeted stairs, turning on the landing, then up another set of steps to the second floor. Heading down the hallway, Eve opens a door into a disorderly bedroom. It's her bedroom, a room she rents from the elderly woman who owns the modest home. The bed is unmade, clothes and possessions are strewn about. Eve moves deliberately, pursuing a course she'd long expected to take. Heading to a bedside dresser, she opens a drawer, taking from it a bottle of whiskey. She leaves the room, crossing the hall into the bathroom. Eve locks the door behind her.

Walking to a window over the bathtub, Eve pulls back the curtains. The police car slows to a stop in front of the house. Stepping back from the window, Eve screws off the cap of the whiskey bottle, dropping it on the floor. Taking a swig, she sets the bottle down on the counter of the bathroom sink. She opens the mirrored medicine cabinet over the sink. Scanning her eyes over the boxes and bottles in the cabinet, she grabs a vial of pills. Turning it in her hand, she reads the label. _Imipramine._ She closes the medicine cabinet. Screwing off the top, she drops the lid in the sink, pours its contents into her hand, then drops the vial with it. It spins around the sink coming to a stop, halfway in the drain.

Her head tilts downwards, she stares into her hand for a moment. Then turning her eyes upwards, she looks into the mirror. Staring back at her - cold, expressionless eyes. The joyless woman in the mirror shows no glimmer of hope, conveying complete resignation, complete surrender. With detachment, she raises her hand, throwing the pills into her mouth. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey she throws her head back washing the pills down with a deep swig. The corners of her mouth twist and she squeezes her eyes shut momentarily, coughing slightly from the bite of the liquor. She throws the bottle back again, taking in a few more gulps. She walks over to the window. The police, having opened the gate, are walking towards the door. Eve walks back over to the medicine cabinet, she opens it again, searching for something more. Here eyes stop on a half-empty vial. _Ciprulex._ She pulls off the cap hastily, throwing the bottle back, and - chasing it with the whiskey - she throws the vial into the sink. She hears the police knock on the door.

The liquor hits her in a sudden flash and she staggers backwards, grabbing the sink to stop herself from falling. She lowers herself to the floor, her legs quaking beneath her. Sitting on the linoleum, her legs folded awkwardly to one side, she takes another swig of whiskey. Another knock on the door. Desperately now, pressed for time, she finishes the whiskey, dropping the bottle by her side. Her body buzzes, and she leans right, then sways to the left. Her body falls backwards and her head hits the floor. Eve stares up at the bathroom's baby-blue walls and ceiling. Piercing, high-pitched static wells up from the back of her mind. A third knock is interrupted. Eve hears the muffled sound of a woman greeting the officers, words being exchanged. Staring up at the ceiling, the room begins to spin.

Another feeling comes across Eve. Intense, hot flashes race across her body in waves. She's pierced with a sudden, shock of terror - grasping the decision she has made. The room begins to spin rapidly. Though she's terrified, her face expresses no emotions. Eve looks down at her arm. Her blanched skin has turned red and blotchy. The hot flashes become more intense. Sharp, piercing pains tear through her stomach, as though she had swallowed a can of nails. Eve rolls over on her side, folding her arms over her stomach, kicking and twisting her legs, writhing on the bathroom floor. The static in her head grows louder. She hears footsteps in the hallway. In intense, unbearable pain, she still has the presence of mind to suppress her moans. The footsteps enter the room across the hall. She hears voices, but cannot make out the words. Rolling over on her back, the pain becomes too extreme, she has the sensation that someone's pushing a knife through her stomach - from the inside out. Digging her nails into her skin, Eve lets out a piercing scream, her voice cracking.

A voice calls to her from outside the bathroom. Knocking rapidly, the door knob jiggles. Eve lets out a choked scream, as a second blade cuts through her abdomen. She rolls over, retching and coughing. Fists bang on the door as Eve rolls onto her stomach pulling her knees under her. She coughs - specks of blood spread out on the bathroom floor. The room begins to darken. The static in her mind grows to a deafening roar. Eve moans in pain. She claws at her skin, pulling shreds of skin from her midriff. Her skin is on fire, hot blades pierce through her insides. A loud bang. The bathroom door flies open, slamming against the bathroom sink. But it's too late. All Eve's strength leaves her body, her muscles relax. A hand grabs her shoulder, but as it turns her over, the room fades to black.

Blood rolls out from Eve's nose, and from the corner of her mouth. As her brain ceases to function, her mind draws forth the last truly joyful moment of her life. The last thing Eve can visualise is the enchanted town of Silent Hill.


	9. Chapter 9: A Child in the Darkness

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter IX: Chapter 9 brings Eve into Silent Hill. From here I will momentarily branch off to tell her story before returning to Adam's. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

**I've been listening to the same music while writing all these chapters. It's Final Fantasy 7 music, and I thought you might appreciate listening to the music I listened to while writing this. Here's the address:**

** watch?v=bMtlLpYcCAQ**

* * *

**IX.**

Eve wakes to darkness. She's lying on a hard surface. Her fingertips feel the texture of her makeshift bed. _Wood. _Her body aches, she feels stiff, from her unforgiving resting place. Moving her arms only slightly, her elbows touch siding. She presses her hand outwards. _Wood._ Running her hands up she feels wood over top of her. She stretches her legs out, raises a hand over her head. She's encased on all sides. She's in a box. A shot of panic runs through her. Pressing her hands against the top of the box she presses upwards. The lid is sealed shut.

"Hey!" Eve shouts, pounding on the top with her fist.

She presses her hands against the top again. Summoning all her strength, Eve pushes against the wood, groaning. The wood creaks, arching slightly, but doesn't give; however, cracks in the wood part slightly, and Eve feels dirt pour through the crack and fall against her skin. She now becomes cognisant of the smell of soil. _I'm underground. I've been buried._ Eve suddenly feels short of breath, her eyes grow wide with panic as she strains to see in her darkened tomb. Her heart begins to race, beating violently in her chest. She can hear her blood pumping in her ears.

"Hey!" Eve screams, "Anybody!"

She begins beating her fists against the lid of her bare coffin. Her chest tightens up. The air seems at once to leave. _I can't breathe!_ Panic take her completely. She begins to thrash violently, kicking and slamming her hands against the top of the coffin. Desperately, she begins to claw at the wood. _God, help me!_

"I'm suffocating!" Eve screams, her voice cracking, "Let me out! Please, let me out!"

Eve lets out an agonising scream as her nails bend backwards, tearing loose from her skin. Drops of blood fall on her face from her fingertips. Eve writhes around in her casket, screaming and coughing wildly. Her screams degenerate into belligerent, unintelligible howls.

Eve wakes to darkness. She groans sightly. Drawing her hands up over the edges of her bed, she feels the rails of the small hard bed she lies on. As her eyes adjust to the darkened room, she hears a steady, rhythmic beeping. Their gentle rhythm slowly rouses Eve from her sleep. A moment passes and her ears identify a whole web of faint, distant beeps. She sees her arms and chest in the darkness, bathed in a pale green glow. Groaning again, Eve draws herself up into a seated position, leaning on one elbow. She looks over her left shoulder. A green and black monitor stands at her bedside, lines zig-zagging across its screen. _A heart monitor._ Eve turns her face outward, and slowly her eyes adjust to see a row of empty beds across from her, each with their own heart monitors beeping away. _I'm in a hospital… How did I get hear?_ Eve sits all the way up. Running her fingers through her hair, combing it back from her face, she clears her throat.

The hospital is plunged into total darkness, save only the pale green glow of the heart monitors. _Am I dreaming?_

"Hello?" Eve calls out into the darkness. No reply.

Eve turns her head downward, noticing an electrode taped to her chest. Feeling around with her hands, Eve finds five taped to her body. There's a hospital bracelet around her wrist. She's still dressed in her regular clothes: tight, dark blue tapered jeans; a solid black, short tank top, bearing her sharply defined midriff. Eve turns, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed.

"Hello!" Eve shouts, louder than before, "Is there anybody there?"

The heart monitor begins to beep at a faster pace, as Eve begins to get scared. She grabs an electrode, peeling the tape from her skin. She winces a little. Then she pulls the other electrodes from her body, dropping the cables to the floor. Her eyes grow wide with disbelief as she turns to face the monitor. The monitor is still beeping. _What?_ The monitor beeps faster as Eve's heart begins racing. _I'm still asleep._ She hops from the bed, her bare feet making a muted noise as they touch the cold concrete floor. _I'm in some sort of lucid dream. I can feel and think. No, it can't be. This all feels too real._

"Hello?" Eve shouts again, walking into the pathway between the rows of beds.

Eve walks slowly down the aisle, each one separated by curtains, looking into each bed. _No people, no one's hear… but the monitors are all beeping._ The row of beds that Eve came from are all up against a wall. She walks to the end of the aisle. She sees that she is in a large hospital room with a high ceiling. There appear to be five, maybe six, rows of beds. Eve sees a pair of doors near the opposite end of the room and decides to making her way down to them. Nervous and perplexed, Eve skips into a jog, her feet making a faint patter on the floor. _What the fuck is going on? How did I get here… Think, Eve, what's the last thing you remember? I must have been in some accident._ Wracking her brain, she can't seem to draw forth any memories. She runs her hands over her head and body, expecting to find some sort of wound or injury, but there is nothing.

"Hello?" Eve tries, once more.

She slows to a walk as she reaches the doors. Placing her hands on the push-bar, Eve gives them a shove. _Locked._ Eve turns towards the centre of the room, peering into the darkness. _I must have gone out of my mind_. Shifting her weight onto one leg, she scans the room as best as she can. Only a faint orange light is coming through a row of windows across two walls. Eve walks down the middle aisle, looking right and left, into each cubicle as she passes. Eve reels in disbelief, perplexed by her inexplicable situation. Some of the heart monitors work - as if they were connected to a living human being - others are flatlined. The room appears totally abandoned - but why then are all the machines still active? Eventually, Eve comes to the end of the aisle. Looking to each side, Eve sees a reception area off to her left. She makes her way down to it. An L-shaped desk runs from one wall to the adjacent wall, a large wooden crucifix hangs on the wall above the desk, tilted downward, as if Christ himself was passing judgement on her.

Analysing it blankly for a moment, Eve climbs over the desk. Setting foot in the reception area, Eve glances around her. The desk is covered in papers, a typewriter. Behind her, against the wall, rows of filing cabinets - alphabetically labeled - presumably containing patient files. Eve ruffles through the papers on the desk. She picks up a memo with the hospital's letterhead at the top. _Legion of Mary Catholic Hospital… Silent Hill!_ Eve furrows her brow, drawing a hand over her mouth. _Why am I in Silent Hill? What the fuck is going on?_ Eve drops the memo on the desk.

Eve drops her head, scanning over the drawers of the desk. She begins to rifle through them. Coming across the second drawer on the right, she finds a small brass key. _Maybe this will open the doors._ Placing the key in her pocket, a shaft of orange light cuts across her wrist. For the first time, Eve notices her hospital bracelet. She leans into the light to read it: _Evelyn. _Reading her last name, Eve sees a date next to it. _Date of admission: 06/09/86… June 9th, 1986._ Eve spins round on her heels to face the filing cabinets behind her. _Maybe I have a file. _Eve scans the filing cabinets, biting her lower lip anxiously, before coming across the W's. She pulls open the corresponding drawer, running her fingers over the folders within until she comes across her name.

"Ah!" Eve snatches the folder.

Spinning back around she walks to the front desk, throwing the folder down on the desktop. Opening the folder, she knits her brows, looking down over a picture which sits on top. It is a print of a painting of a naked man and woman, standing beneath an apple tree, surrounded by animals. The woman and man both have their hands grasped around an apple, the woman is reaching up with her left arm and grasping a branch of the apple tree. A snake is wrapped around a limb of the tree, between the man and woman, leaning towards the woman. Eve reads the title beneath the picture. _'Adam and Eve', Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1526._ Eve turns it over briefly, finding the other side blank.

Eve finds herself strangely fixated on the painting. Adam and Eve share a suggestive glance. In fact, the whole painting has a sexually suggestive undertone. The way Eve grasps the tree branch, their hands clasped around the apple, the snake rising from the tree. Flipping it over, Eve finds a map of Silent Hill, folded neatly beneath it. She takes it out and spreads it open over the desktop. Over the hospital, there is a large, red, 'X'. Nearby, a motel is marked with a '#1'.

Turning over the map, Eve finds a stack of documents, stapled together. '_The Works Of Edgar Allan Poe_'. Eve flips through them, page-by-page: _'A Dream Within A Dream', 'A Dream', 'Dreams', 'The Conqueror Worm', _and _'The Premature Burial'_. Eve flips back to the start, to read the first poem:

_ A Dream Within a Dream_

_Take this kiss upon the brow!_

_And, in parting from you now,_

_Thus much let me avow-_

_You are not wrong, who deem_

_That my days have been a dream;_

_Yet if hope has flown away_

_In a night, or in a day,_

_In a vision, or in none,_

_Is it therefore the less gone?_

_All that we see or seem_

_Is but a dream within a dream._

_I stand amid the roar_

_Of a surf-tormented shore,_

_And I hold within my hand_

_Grains of the golden sand-_

_How few! yet how they creep_

_Through my fingers to the deep,_

_While I weep- while I weep!_

_O God! can I not grasp_

_Them with a tighter clasp?_

_O God! can I not save_

_One from the pitiless wave?_

_Is all that we see or seem_

_But a dream within a dream?_

Eve turns to the second poem, entitled 'A Dream' and continues:

_ A Dream_

_In visions of the dark night_

_I have dreamed of joy departed-_

_But a waking dream of life and light_

_Hath left me broken-hearted._

_Ah! what is not a dream by day_

_To him whose eyes are cast_

_On things around him with a ray_

_Turned back upon the past?_

_That holy dream- that holy dream,_

_While all the world were chiding,_

_Hath cheered me as a lovely beam_

_A lonely spirit guiding._

_What though that light, thro' storm and night,_

_So trembled from afar-_

_What could there be more purely bright_

_In Truth's day-star?_

Turning it over, Eve comes to 'Dreams', the third poem:

_ Dreams_

_Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!_

_My spirit not awakening, till the beam_

_Of an Eternity should bring the morrow._

_Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,_

_'Twere better than the cold reality_

_Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,_

_And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,_

_A chaos of deep passion, from his birth._

_But should it be- that dream eternally_

_Continuing- as dreams have been to me_

_In my young boyhood- should it thus be given,_

_'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven._

_For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright_

_I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light_

_And loveliness,- have left my very heart_

_In climes of my imagining, apart_

_From mine own home, with beings that have been_

_Of mine own thought- what more could I have seen?_

_'Twas once- and only once- and the wild hour_

_From my remembrance shall not pass- some power_

_Or spell had bound me- 'twas the chilly wind_

_Came o'er me in the night, and left behind_

_Its image on my spirit- or the moon_

_Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon_

_Too coldly- or the stars- howe'er it was_

_That dream was as that night-wind- let it pass._

_I have been happy, tho' in a dream._

_I have been happy- and I love the theme:_

_Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,_

_As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife_

_Of semblance with reality, which brings_

_To the delirious eye, more lovely things_

_Of Paradise and Love- and all our own!_

_Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known._

Eve frowns, biting her lip slightly. She takes the documents in her hand and resolves to follow the directions on the map.

Eve slides over the desk, she races back over to the bed from which she came. Finding her bed she sees the heart monitor still beeping. A frayed, faded, denim jacket sits on a stool by her bed. Sliding it on, Eve folds her papers, placing them in an inside pocket. Underneath her bed, she finds a pair of blue, low-top chucks. She slides them on, then walks to the double-doors she came across earlier. Eve tries the key in the lock. _Yes!_ The doors unlock and open into a large central corridor. Peering down the long, dark hallway, Eve resolves to make her way to the exit instead. Eve throws the exit open, and steps outside. Immediately, Eve is disturbed, plunged into a deep, vacuous, silence.

The streets are clear, the orange glow of the street lamps reflect off of the asphalt and surrounding buildings. However, above the glow of the city lights, the sky is pitch black. No stars, nor clouds, just a deep, pervasive blackness. Eve stares out into the expanse with a mix of awe and horror. She stares into the sky, expecting a few faint stars to come into focus as her eyes adjust to the darkness, but, nothing. _I have got to be dreaming… to find myself in Silent Hill, the town I love so dearly… "Silent", indeed._ But just as suddenly as the shock had overtaken her, a mix of new emotions wash over her. Vague, watery memories - reminiscent feelings - of innocence, from her childhood. As much as horror, a magical, romantic feeling swells up from within her. _This beautiful town, the last place I felt truly happy._

Eve steps into the street. There is no sound, however faint, of any people or cars anywhere in this abandoned town. Eve starts walking Westward, toward the destination marked on her map. Rounding a corner Eve hits a stretch of two blocks where the lights are all out. A lone lamp at the end of the second block shines in the darkness. Wrapping her arms around herself, Eve walks hurriedly down the street, Eve's footsteps reverberating loudly in the city silence. As she nears the light, a small silhouette comes into focus. _A dog?_ Eve stops and watches cautiously. The figure is moving. Taking a few steps forward, she leans into the darkness, watching the figure attentively. It staggers on what Eve can now make out as two legs. _Definitely not a dog… A child?_ She begins to walk towards the silhouette, which toddles beneath the light of the streetlamp. _Yes! It's a kid… How could a child get out in the street, unattended? Who would be so irresponsible? He could get hit by a car._

"Hello," Eve calls out, walking faster now, "Little boy… _or girl_?"

She stops a few feet away from the child. It's back is turned to her, and is giggling and cooing like a baby. _Definitely two, maybe three years old._ Eve kneels before the child, then a shock cuts through her. The child has no clothes. Then a second shock. The child's skin tone is a sickly grey, its texture seems rubbery and undefined.

"God, who would do this?" Eve reaches forward to touch the child's shoulder, "Come on, sweeth-"

The child turns round, facing Eve. She gasps, staggering back, raising a hand over her mouth. She gazes at the child with wide-eyed terror. The child has no eyes. Instead, two folds, as if the eyes were swollen shut. Between them, a flat, formless bump where its nose should be. It has a crooked mouth, resembling a wide cut in its face, stretching off to one side. The cut twists upward and opens, into what resembles a horrific smile, exposing grotesque, swollen gums, lined with small, thin, pointed teeth. It giggles. The child is naked, but has no genitalia, the fingers on its hands are ill-defined, almost clubbed.

Eve turns to run, but crashes - face first - into the the chest of some larger figure. It grips her shoulders tightly. She pushes off its chest, franticly trying to shake her shoulders from its grip.

"Let go of me!" she screams, trying to pull herself loose.

"Calm down," a deep, gruff male voice replies, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Oh, God, help me!" Eve cries in relief, pulling herself back into his arms.

"It's okay, it's okay," the man assures her softly, "you're only dreaming."

His reassurances strike her immediately. _Of course! This is some vivid nightmare. None of this can be real._ She pulls her self away from the large, stocky, muscular figure. The horror does not abate, but a feeling of resolve comes over her.

"Eve," the man instructs, flatly, "You have to kill it."

He pulls a shiny metal pipe from his belt and hands it to Eve. She takes it unquestioning. _This nothing but a dream_. Still, she cringes in horror and disgust when she turns to face the hideous monster staggering before her.

"It's only a dream," Eve says, twisting her hands around the pipe, stepping slowly towards the toddler, which seems to watch her expectantly. She laughs, her eyes reddened and teary. She raises the pipe upwards, then brings it down on the monster. The pipe sinks into its skull. A high-pitched cry escapes the creature's mouth - as real as that of any child - a deep indentation left in the top of its head.

"Oh, God!" Eve cries, turning round to the man with a plaintive expression, tears streaming from her eyes, "It _cries_! It's a _baby_! It's a _baby_!"

"No, Eve," the man replies, "It's a monster! Don't be fooled!"

Eve turns back to the thing she had struck. It whimpers painfully, and she is suddenly overcome with the desire to put it out of its misery - to eliminate it. A deep revulsion fills her gut, watching the hideous abomination. _It needs to die. _Eve staggers over it, reigning another blow down on its head. The right side of its skull caves inward and black blood pours profusely from its damaged skull. But, it does not die. The thing falls forward, crying, black blood pooling on the street. It begins to crawl towards Eve. She hits its head twice more. It crunches with a moist sound, like a crushed pumpkin, or tearing cartilage. It moves no more.

Eve's face contorts. She bends over the mangled toddler and begins to gag. She tries to look away from the creature's caved-in skull, but can't manage. Bloodied chunks of flesh roll out from its open head, rolling near her feet.

"What the _fuck_ is happening?" Eve asks, straightening herself up slightly.

"This isn't real," the man replies matter-of-factly, "This is some visceral nightmare… But unfortunately, it is a nightmare which may not end for a long time."

He grabs the pipe, pulling it slowly from Eve's grip. She turns to face him, the orange streetlight cast across his body. He is a rugged looking man, heavy-set but muscular. His broad shoulders, hairy forearms, and calloused hands indicate that he is a tradesman - some sort of blue-collar worker. His short, brown hair is uncombed. He has a stern, square jaw and a thick moustache. Around it, thick stubble. He stares back at her with stern, serious eyes.

"I'm here to help you," he says, "I'm sure you have no memory of how you got here. What's important is how you get out."

The man takes Eve's hand, guiding her around the mangled child lying dead on the floor.

"You are here for a reason," he continues, "though it may not be clear to you now… This place is trying to tell you something, listen to it. Follow it where it leads you."

Eve recedes into total passivity, listening like a daughter being lectured by her father. Her hands are shaking and her eyes flicker nervously, shock having set in. After some coaxing, Eve manages to reclaim her senses enough to remember the map, and the motel she had set out for. Offering to take her to her destination they continue to traverse the streets of Silent Hill. Withdrawing, stepping outside herself, Eve analyses the city with childlike awe. They walk on for several blocks, encountering nobody, no thing. Two blocks away, Eve can see the violet glow of the motel's neon sign. It gradually blends into the orange of the streetlights. Suddenly, she sees a white flake falling from the black, starless sky. She watches it hit the asphalt then melt away. Another. Then another. Eve reaches out to catch the small white flake in her hand. She stares at it detachedly.

"It's snowing," the man mumbles.

"In _June_?" Eve asks, to no reply.

Lethargically, they meander into the parking lot of the motel. The violet, neon glow giving it a nightmarish, other-worldly feeling. The snow begins to fall faster, with larger flakes. The man signals for Eve to wait as he steps inside the motel's reception. Eve turns round, her eyes scanning over the violet parking lot. _A dream within a dream._ A knot forms in her stomach as she notices vague shadows on the other end of the parking lot, staggering aimlessly. Eve jumps as she feels a tap on her shoulder. The man returned, holding a key in his hand. He leads her to a stairway leading up to the second floor.

"It's probably best to stay off the first floor," he says.

They hang a left and he unlocks the second door passed the stairs. He throws open the door and steps inside. Eve follows behind, closing the door cautiously behind her. The neon light filters through a window by the door, giving the motel room a seedy, lascivious appearance. Slipping off her shoes and dropping her jacket by the door, Eve makes her way to the bed. She pulls back the blankets and climbs in fully clothed. Her whole body aches, and although she has been awake no longer than a couple hours, she is barely able to keep her eyes open.

"You better get some rest," the man says to her, "you've been through a lot today."

Standing by the window, the man peers through the blinds. Eve watches him lovingly, his figure in the window pervading a paternalistic air. Eve blinks a few times and the room grows dim. Turning her face into the pillow, she drifts off into sleep.


	10. Chapter 10: The Winter of Discontent

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter X: Chapter 10 expands on Eve's story. This a long one. Please review, favourite, and follow cuz I won't have another chapter up until Halloween. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**X.**

Eve awakes to darkness. She's sitting upright, leaning up against a smooth, wooden surface. Her legs are stiff and cramped, they're pressed up against her chest, she has no room to stretch out. Eve presses her hands outwards. _Wood._ Running her hands around she realises she is in a box of some kind. She raises her hands over her head and feels a few items of fabric hanging down over her and hears the rattle of wire hangers. _A closet. _Eve presses her hands against the doors in front of her but they won't budge. Her heart races and she begins to panic as a suffocating claustrophobia grips her.

"Hello!" Eve calls out. "Please let me out!"

"Stay in there, you slut!" a woman's voice replies. Eve immediately recognises it. _Mother._ She's screaming so violently that her voice is at a shrill, fevered pitch. Her shrieking becomes so intense that it sounds as though she may lose her voice at any moment.

"Please, mom," Eve cries, her voice cracking, "I can't _breathe_!"

"Don't you think I see you?" her mother shrieks, "Looking at him, leading him on with your lustful gaze!"

"I _don't_!" Eve cries in an adolescent voice, banging on the closet door with both hands.

"Quiet, whore!"

Slowly, Eve becomes aware of a throbbing pain on her arms and face - from where she had been struck. Her scalp is sore, torn - her hair had been pulled violently. The taste of blood is in her mouth and her lip is swollen.

"I can't breathe, mom… _Please_!"

"If you would just keep your legs closed," her mother screams back, "I wouldn't have to do this."

Eve begins to cough violently, a reflex of her panic-stricken state. She slams her fists against the closet doors violently, bruising her hands, breaking her skin open.

"Stay in there till you die, you fucking tramp! I'm sickened by your suggestive glances," Eve's mother says, her voice lowering to a disdainful growl, "Beckoning, pushing out your tits, pouting like some vile whore."

"I don't do that!"

"You're _dead_, Eve," the woman shrieks, her voice growing dimmer as she leaves the room, abandoning Eve locked in the closet. "_Dead_!"

"I'm alive!" Eve calls back desperately.

Eve slams her hands against the closet doors, warm blood running down her hands and over her wrists. She becomes dizzy, hyperventilating, and has the distinct sensation that she is spinning wildly. Her head becomes light, and the strength drains from her arms. At any moment, she is about to pass out. Eve slaps her hands against the doors weakly, two, three more times.

Suddenly, the doors of the closet burst open, and Eve is staring down a long, snow-covered road. The road runs between a thick forest, heavy snow resting on the tree tops. Overhead, the sky is a deep, frosted blue; and the green lights of aurora borealis dance toward the horizon. Eve steps out from the closet, her bare feet sinking into the snow. She is completely naked. The cold winter air nips at her skin, so she wraps her arms around herself for warmth. Mechanically, Eve walks straight forward, down the middle of the road. She moves her head from right to left, analysing the woods around her. Skeletons are moving among the trees. After walking several feet, Eve turns around. The tall, narrow, mahogany closet sits in the middle of the snowy road. Turning back around, she heads forward again. A gust of arctic wind rushes violently over her, blowing her hair around wildly, pinching and biting at her skin. Eve turns around again to see the closet, but this time something has changed. A thin trail of blood runs from the closet, over the snowy road, leading right up to Eve. She looks down. The blood is pouring out from between her legs.

Eve clasps her hands between her legs in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood begins to pour out more rapidly. She turns away from the closet and continues to run down the road. Suddenly she comes to the murky banks of a lake. She steps onto the icy soil, her feet sinking deep into the mud. Blood pouring down the sides of her legs, Eve hurries toward the water. Reaching the edge she continues forward. Walking into the lake, it rises passed her ankles, then her calves, then her knees. The freezing water seems to lacerate her skin. Eve's face twists painfully, but she continues walking until her head sinks below the surface of the water.

Eve wakes in the motel bed. The violet light fills the room. Pulling back the blankets and moving to the edge of the bed, Eve throws her legs over the side. She is still wearing the clothes she had on the day before and the man who had escorted her is gone. She rises from the bed and, stretching out her arms, walks to the window. Parting the blinds, she looks outside. Outside, the snow is falling more rapidly than before, in larger, fluffy flakes. A lustrous blanket of immaculate snow covers the parking lot and buildings surrounding it, and with the neon light reflecting off of its surface it looks like the surface of some distant planet. Eve's eyes scan the parking lot for traces of life. There are no footprints in the snow. _He must have left some time ago._

Eve shifts her weight, leaning on one leg. Biting her lip she contemplates her situation. _I woke up in Silent Hill, but not the Silent Hill I remember - some twisted, alternate reality. In a hospital… maybe I'm in a coma… I walked through the streets, and then I saw - that _thing_… _Eve shudders. _God, I can't bare to think about it. Then I saw that man… What was it that he said? That this town was trying to tell me something, to follow where it leads. Is this all in my head? Are all those things I saw nothing but manifestations of my subconscious? This is probably some dream, some _hallucination_. This is all happening in a fraction of a minute, one night in my sleep… or… Shit, I don't know. All I can do is go along with this twisted scenario like a bad acid trip. I've had a few of those before - best thing to do is go with it, wait till it passes… I'll probably wake up and find myself on the floor of someone's bathroom._

Eve resolves to read the documents she'd found in her file. Walking over to her jacket she grabs the files and sits in the chair by the window. Glancing at the picture of Adam and Eve momentarily, she sets it aside. Flipping passed the poems Eve comes to 'The Premature Burial'.

_The Premature Burial_

_(1850)_

_Edgar Allan Poe_

_THERE are certain themes of which the interest is all-absorbing, but which are too entirely horrible for the purposes of legitimate fiction. These the mere romanticist must eschew, if he do not wish to offend or to disgust. They are with propriety handled only when the severity and majesty of Truth sanctify and sustain them._

_[…]_

_To be buried while alive is, beyond question, the most terrific of these extremes which has ever fAllan to the lot of mere mortality. That it has frequently, very frequently, so fAllan will scarcely be denied by those who think. The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? We know that there are diseases in which occur total cessations of all the apparent functions of vitality, and yet in which these cessations are merely suspensions, properly so called. They are only temporary pauses in the incomprehensible mechanism. A certain period elapses, and some unseen mysterious principle again sets in motion the magic pinions and the wizard wheels. The silver cord was not for ever loosed, nor the golden bowl irreparably broken. But where, meantime, was the soul?_

_Apart, however, from the inevitable conclusion, a priori that such causes must produce such effects-that the well-known occurrence of such cases of suspended animation must naturally give rise, now and then, to premature interments-apart from this consideration, we have the direct testimony of medical and ordinary experience to prove that a vast number of such interments have actually taken place. I might refer at once, if necessary to a hundred well authenticated instances. One of very remarkable character, and of which the circumstances may be fresh in the memory of some of my readers, occurred, not very long ago, in the neighboring city of Baltimore, where it occasioned a painful, intense, and widely-extended excitement. The wife of one of the most respectable citizens-a lawyer of eminence and a member of Congress-was seized with a sudden and unaccountable illness, which completely baffled the skill of her physicians. After much suffering she died, or was supposed to die. No one suspected, indeed, or had reason to suspect, that she was not actually dead. She presented all the ordinary appearances of death. The face assumed the usual pinched and sunken outline. The lips were of the usual marble pallor. The eyes were lustreless. There was no warmth. Pulsation had ceased. For three days the body was preserved unburied, during which it had acquired a stony rigidity. The funeral, in short, was hastened, on account of the rapid advance of what was supposed to be decomposition._

_The lady was deposited in her family vault, which, for three subsequent years, was undisturbed. At the expiration of this term it was opened for the reception of a sarcophagus;-but, alas! how fearful a shock awaited the husband, who, personally, threw open the door! As its portals swung outwardly back, some white-apparelled object fell rattling within his arms. It was the skeleton of his wife in her yet unmoulded shroud._

_A careful investigation rendered it evident that she had revived within two days after her entombment; that her struggles within the coffin had caused it to fall from a ledge, or shelf to the floor, where it was so broken as to permit her escape. […] While thus occupied, she probably swooned, or possibly died, through sheer terror; and, in failing, her shroud became entangled in some iron- work which projected interiorly. Thus she remained, and thus she rotted, erect._

Eve folds the corner of the page to mark her place. Sighing, she drops the documents to the floor and sinks into the chair. She immediately recognised what she was reading, it was something she had read before, as a teenager; but, at the moment, she couldn't assign any significance to it. _Ugh, what the fuck is this supposed to mean?_ Eve pulls herself forward with a moan, reaching for the documents, she grabs the map she had taken from the hospital. Spreading it open, she turns it towards the light, so that the faint violet light filtering in from the window could illuminate it. Eve's eyes fall upon the mark over the hospital she had come from, she places a finger on the map, tracing her steps to the motel. Eve scans the map, looking for any other marks, any indications of where she needs to go. Nothing, no other marks. As she is about to give up and cast the map aside, Eve notices a large six block area with a bold, black border. _Silent Hill Cemetery._ Eve rises from her chair and looks over the room for a pen. She walks to a bedside drawer. Bending, she opens the top drawer. She finds nothing in it but a Gideon Bible, a thick layer of dust resting on top of it. She closes the drawer. Opening the second drawer she finds a pack of playing cards and a black pen. Eve grabs it. Setting the map down on the drawer, Eve circles the cemetery several times - pressing hard so she can distinguish it from all the other lines on the map.

_Silent Hill Cemetery… I've been dreaming incessantly about death and burial. My only clue, that seems to connect with anything, is 'The Premature Burial'. I can't see anything else to do…_

Eve grabs all her documents and takes her jacket from the floor. She slips the documents into the inside pocket with the map and pen. Eve coughs, the runs her hand through her hair, brushing it back as she walks to the bathroom. Flicking on the light switch, she finds that it's not working. Eve turns on the sink, a thin stream of water trickles from the faucet. Clasping her hands beneath it, she scoops up a handful of water and splashes it on her face. She grabs a some-what dirty looking towel from a rail and dries herself. Walking back to the door, she puts on her jacket, slips on her chucks, and opens the door. Eve freezes, gazing wide-eyed at the scene outside.

"God, it's gorgeous."

On the walkway outside her motel room, across the parking lot and the roofs and surrounding buildings, there lay an inch or two of soft pillowy snow. The violet light reverberating of its surface, the snowy landscape seems to possess a profoundly magical quality. The whole panorama glitters, as though millions of diamonds had fallen from the sky. Snow flakes fall heavily, so much so that the buildings opposite the parking lot are only scarcely visible and it's saturated with the neon light, like a torrent of purple rain. Eve steps onto the walkway, looking over the scene with awe as she makes her way to the the staircase. She walks down the stairs giving the snow a playful kick as she reaches the bottom. Cutting across the building she sees the large window of the reception. She glances in through the window briefly, making sure it's clear, then she steps into the doorway, the door itself being ajar. Eve turns one last time to look across the parking lot, then steps inside the building.

The reception area is in disarray, papers and other items are scattered about. There is a large desk just beneath the reception window, with papers askew and an empty styrofoam cup. By the opposite wall there stand a few metal filing cabinets with an old-fashioned mahogany radio sitting atop them. Scanning the room, Eve finds nothing of any particular interest. Turning to leave, she sees two things propped up next to the door: a crowbar, and a wooden club. _Huh, don't fuck with the staff at this motel._ Eve grabs the wooden club. It's blonde, roughly as thick as a police baton, electrical tape is wrapped around one end like a makeshift grip. A hole has been drilled near the bottom with a plastic cord looped through it, convenient for hanging around the bearer's wrist or from a hook. Feeling its weight in her hand, Eve finds it light and easy to swing, but it is hard. Eve decides to take it and walks out from the reception.

Walking outside, Eve continues to walk across the building. She rounds the corner of the motel and walks into the street. Continuing North, she walks up the middle of the snow-covered street, looking from side to side uneasily, expecting that hideous child to return at any moment. The weather is surprisingly warm - not any colder than the night before. Snow falls steadily from the ashen vault. As she crosses to the second block, the violet gives way to orange, still possessing the same magical atmosphere, but somehow it makes Eve feel warmer. Up ahead, she sees impressions in the snow. Nearing them, it becomes apparent what they are. _Footprints._ But a morbid feeling strikes Eve upon seeing them, there is an irregular quality to them. The footprints, which came from just around the corner and continue straight North along the path Eve was taking, don't look entirely human. The strides are long, implying that whoever had made them dragged their feet in long, slow strides. Pausing momentarily, Eve decides to follow them, resolute on maintaining her course. _At least they're moving away, and not towards me._

Doubling the tracks in the snow, Eve continues Northwards. Hooking the club around her wrist Eve wraps her arms around herself. The thick snowfall obscures her vision beyond the next block, but she continues onward, into the veil.

Suddenly, Eve stops in her tracks. The silhouette of a person comes into visibility through the heavy snowfall, a block ahead of her. Bending forward, Eve squints into the distance. She begins to take a few cautious steps towards the figure. It looks like a thin woman. As they near each other, a pit forms in Eve's stomach. The woman appears to be naked. Gripping the club tightly, Eve takes long strides, marching steadily towards the figure.

"Hello," Eve calls to it, firmly, though her voice sounds fraught, trembling slightly.

Eve stops again, abruptly, as the strange woman comes into full view. _It has no face._ The woman has pale-grey skin over the entirety of her body, a blank, featureless face, and what appears to be a fleshy hood - resembling a headscarf - over the top of her head. It has a slim, feminine figure, with thin, fragile looking arms and legs. But, in striking contrast, the woman has a huge, bloated belly. It resembles the belly of a pregnant woman, but is grossly distended - it appears as though it is on the verge of bursting open. The creature turns its eyeless face in Eve's direction and staggers towards her painfully, laboriously. In its left hand, it brandishes a rusted tire iron.

Instinct takes over. Mechanically, Eve advances towards the thing amidst the snowfall. As she closes in on it, Eve raises her club, and her target mirrors her with its weapon. Eve swings at its face, snapping its head sideways. It responds, swinging back at her, though, off its balance, the tire iron sails passed her. Coming back the other way, Eve strikes it in the knee. Its frail leg breaks inwards, making a loud, cartilaginous cracking sound. It falls on its back and Eve pounces forward, smashing its skull to pieces with a series of savage blows.

Lying on its back, the headless monster convulses violently. Eve stares down on it with a mix of revulsion, horror, and hatred. Her eyes move down over its chest to its stomach. Its swollen belly looks somewhat translucent, and appears as though it's on the verge of bursting open. It truly is translucent, and Eve can see a web of veins inside its skin, a web of black lines zig-zagging in all directions. But there is no naval, the stomach is smooth all across. Looking down on in, Eve almost sees a load inside it, a shadow beneath its skin. She leans in to analyse it, seized by a morbid curiosity. Eve gasps. A small bump rises on the surface of its swollen abdomen, then drops away. Then another bump next to it. There are two small shapes rising from inside the creature's stomach. The bumps grope around for awhile, as though they are searching for a weak spot in their container. Slowly a third, large bump rises between the others. Eve can vaguely make out what's inside. _A face_. As the bump on the right rises, the flesh begins to tear. A small hole opens in the stomach, causing an inky translucent fluid to spray out and roll across the monster's abdomen. Suddenly, a tiny, pale hand bursts through the hole. Its fingers are undeveloped, like that of a severely premature baby. The fingers of the other hand gropes at the hole. There is a dull, wet, fleshy tearing sound as the wound opens wider. Caliginous, viscous fluid bubbles out of the monster's womb, pouring onto the snow-covered street. Slowly, out from the hole, rises a pale, faceless baby. It resembles the toddler that Eve had seen before, with sharp, pin-shaped teeth and puckered skin-folds for eyes.

Pulling itself out from its mother's belly, the flesh of the monster's stomach collapses and an incredible amount of inky fluid pours from the womb forming a large puddle in the snow. Eve shuffles backward as the fluid nears her feet. The pale baby climbs out from the corpse and falls into the street. A long umbilical cord runs from the baby's naval into the mother's womb. It begins to crawl towards Eve's feet as she backs away. An ululation of horrified disgust escapes from Eve's mouth as the baby begins to make a high-pitched bleating sound, like that of a baby lamb. It crawls towards Eve, squeaking and bleating incessantly.

"Die!" Eve screams, violently beating the baby with her club, "Fucking, die!"

Eve's club rains down on the fragile creature, the first blow leaving a long, narrow indentation across its back. A piercing shriek escapes it and blood squirts from its mouth. Hitting the baby seven or eight times the creature is decimated. It's smashed into a bloody, tattered pulp, scarcely recognisable as what it one was. Eve steps back from the mangled body, dropping her hands at her hands at her sides. She throws her head back and lets out a strained, muffled scream through tightly clenched teeth. She stamps her foot a few times then, hunching forward, Eve begins to gag. _This isn't happening… I'm not here. This isn't happening. I'm not here. This isn't happening._

Eve presses her hand to her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut. _Pull yourself together, Eve… _Collecting herself, her feet begin to move forward beneath her, as she continues Northwards on her original course. She watches, as though outside herself, as the buildings move past her. She recognises nearly every one she sees, and soon a nostalgic warmth washes over her. _None of this can be real._ Eve laughs. _I'm so lucky to be here. So lucky to be back in Silent Hill._

Block after block drifts passes and, before long, Eve's more pragmatic sensibilities take hold, and she returns to her regular state of consciousness. At this point, it seems as though she's been walking for hours, but there is no sight of the cemetery. She stops a few times to check the map and determines that she is, in fact, on the correct course. Finally, a few blocks onwards, a large, spear-topped, wrought-iron gate appears threw the snowfall. Eve breaks into a jog, finding the large, arched gates of the entrance directly in front of her. It's title is written across the gate in large gothic letters. _Silent Hill Cemetery._ Eve pushes at the gate. _Fuck, it's locked._ Eve inspects the door handle closely. The keyhole is large, and looks to be of the same old-fashioned, gothic style as the gate itself. Eve looks at the top of the fence. _Couldn't climb it. It's too high, with no horizontal bars to step up on, and if I slip at the top I'll get stabbed in the fuckin' cunt._

"Shit!" Eve kicks the fence.

Biting her lip, Eve turns around looking around her despondently. Across the street, there are a number of businesses: a bowling alley, a convenience store, a hair salon, and a pizza place. Nothing of any relevance to Eve. Then, Eve's eye is caught by a building she can faintly see through the veil of snow, or rather a brass object on the door of the building which seems to glimmer conspicuously. About a block-and-a-half Westward she reads the sign atop a brick building. _Evelyn's Day Care._ "Evelyn" is written in pink and "Day Care" baby blue. Next to the words, a stack of letter blocks reading "ABC". Glancing back at the cemetery gate, Eve decides to take this as some sort of sign, and jogs across the street towards the day care. Coming up to the building, she slows to a walk. It's a brick building with a dusty, faded look to it. It has small, high windows, with a few crayon drawings taped up on them. Eve's eyes are immediately drawn to the door handle. It has a Viennese design: brass with an intricate design over the plate and handle. The door handle shines brightly, as though it were brand new, and stands in stark contrast with the white, wooden door - which is old, dusty, and faded - with long cracks in its paint that are peeling away in large strips.

Eve grabs the handle and turns it, hearing a heavy click. _It's unlocked._ Eve pulls the heavy door open, which creaks and stutters and only comes halfway open before getting stuck. A musty, stale smell wafts out from the day care, as though the door hasn't been opened in a hundred years. Leaning in through the door, Eve inspects the room carefully, cautiously looking into every corner. There is virtually no light though, and some of the corners are completely obscured in the darkness. It seems clear though. Eve steps inside, pulling the door closed behind her, and brushes the snow from her hair and jacket. The day care is one large, open room, with a blue, foam mat covering the entirety of the floor. The walls are painted sky-blue and giant blades of grass come up from the floor across all four walls. There are small tables arranged around the room for the children and a few taller chairs for adults. Across an adjacent wall there are a bunch of cubbies with toys neatly put away and directly across from the entrance there is a second door. Eve walks to the door opposite her. Opening it, she finds it's nothing more than a broom closet, filled with assorted cleaning supplies.

Walking around the room, Eve scans all the corners, under all the tables. There doesn't seem to be anything important. As she bends and stoops, trying to see into every nook and cranny, a renewed sense of frustration wells up in her. Eve turns to leaves, but catches something in the corner of her eye. She does a double-take, then turns to one wall to analyse it. There is a hole at the base of the wall. It has a triangular shape, with two sides curved inwards slightly. Eve walks to it, kneeling on the floor to inspect it. The texture of the wall seems to change nearing the edge of the hole, and to change colour slightly. The edges of the the crevice are tinted with a somewhat pinkish hue. Running her hand over it, Eve pulls her hand away as though she presses her hand on a hot stove, then furrowing her brows she touches it again. _It feels like…_ The wall has a soft, flesh-like texture to it. It's as thought the wall gradually turns into human skin, which hangs over the hole like a pair of curtains. Getting down on all fours, Eve peers into the hole. It seems to stretch on for three feet, maybe more. _There is something inside._ Eve reaches into the hole, her shoulder pressed right up against the edge of the crevice. Stretching as far as she can reach her hand coming in contact with something. Grabbing it, Eve pulls it out.

It's a corsage. A large red rose with green leaves around its bass and a silver clip on the bottom. A hollow feeling overtakes Eve, as she looks down on the ornament she holds in her hands. Her eyes stare down in her lap with a guilt-stricken expression. A minute passes and Eve sits motionless.

As Eve is about to rise to her feet she notices something pouring out from the hole. Like, black water, it spreads towards her. Eve jumps up and backs away from. It's not water. It spreads across the floor, and then across the wall from the hole. A black, papery substance. _Ash._ It's spreads outwards in all direction, cracking and peeling away. Backing away, Eve watches it, paralysed with bewilderment. As it reaches the ceiling it begins spreading much faster. Turning away suddenly, Eve sprints for the door. Grabbing the door handle, she turns it back and forth, pushing and pulling the door in a panic. Eve kicks at the door, but the ashen substance encircles it, closing like a shutter over the only possible exit. Eve spins around. The whole room is covered in a layer of ash. Every surface in the room is black. Eve's heart pounds in her chest. _What the fuck is happening._ Eve looks arounds expectantly, but nothing happens. The room is enveloped in a vacuous silence.

Eve flinches, suddenly, as the sound of radio static cuts through the silence. Looking around the room, Eve sees the source of the noise. A small two-way radio sits on an ashen table. She looks around the room nervously, her eyes flicking about like a caged animal, slowly she walks towards the device on the table. It makes a popping sound, then the static suddenly gets louder, a high-pitched ringing cutting through the din. Eve steps over the table, grabbing the radio with one hand. She hears a distorted voice in the static, slowly it gets louder, cutting through the noise. Then, it becomes apparent what it is. The sound of a baby crying.

"For God's sake," Eve's eyes tear up, her hand grips the radio tightly, "Leave me alone!"

Eve drops it, a second sound startles her, that same monstrous giggle she had heard before. This one is coming from inside the room. She looks around the room wildly, grasping her club in one hand. A moment passes. She hears the giggle again and her eyes shoot to the hole in the wall. One of the toddler crawls through the hole, as soon as it gets out it stands up and turns its eyeless face towards Eve. Opening its hideous, gummy mouth wide, it lets out a joyous giggle, like a child finding its mother. Then another giggle, as a second toddler crawls out from the hole. It, too, stands up and turns its face toward Eve. She turns back around and grabs the door handle, trying in vain to force it open. More giggles and high-pitched squeaks, as two more toddlers crawl through the hole. Eve spins back around and watches in disbelief as another three emerge, seven in total.

Eve grips her club with a clenched fist, her knuckles turning white. She eyes them uneasily as the toddlers start to stagger towards her.


	11. Chapter 11: The Other World (Eve)

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XI: Chapter 11 continues with Eve's story. This one has a great deal of action. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on Adult FF (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XI.**

Eve swallows heavily, as her body advances towards the horrible monsters which watch her with devilish grins. Gripping her club like a baseball bat, she swings it at the first of the monsters. It let's out a piercing scream as the club connects with the side of its head, knocking it over sideways and leaving a large dent in its temple. Swinging back the other way, Eve hits the second on the crown of its head, causing it to fall backwards with a squeal. The others start to run towards her, wobbling on their stubby legs. Eve backs away, swinging her weapon from left to right in wild, erratic strokes. Her club hits a toddler in the left cheek, snapping its head around sideways with a loud crack. It drops limply to the floor. The club flies back the opposite way, connecting with top of another creatures head. It falls forward. Eve's back hits the wall. Another toddler runs up to her, its arms outstretched as if to hug her. Eve kicks it in the chest, sending it sailing back several feet, landing on its back with a heavy thud. The one on the floor springs up suddenly, and then falls forward, wrapping its arms around Eve's legs. It bites into her calf, its teeth piercing through her jeans.

"Unghh!" Eve cries out.

The toddler bites her with surprising force, she feels its teeth sink into her muscle. In a panic, Eve hits the monster in the head, then cries out in pain again, the blow driving its teeth deeper into her calf. Another waddles towards her. Eve swings, her club connecting awkwardly with the child's eye. It yelps and falls to its knees, pressing its hands to its face. In the meanwhile, all but one of the toddlers have risen to their feet and advance on Eve. At the front, the last of the unscathed monster comes at her. Eve jabs at its face with the end of her club - it staggers backwards. The one on her leg, pulls back and bites her a second time, slightly lower.

"Aghhh! Fuck!"

Eve bends forward grabbing its head and trying to pull it loose, but it only moves the teeth around in her flesh. As she tries to pull it loose, the first toddler she struck, with the deep indentation in its temple, grabs her opposite leg and bites into her shin.

"Aghhah!"

Eve reflexively lifts her leg in an attempt to pull it loose, but loses her balance and falls sideways. One toddler runs up between her legs. Eve jabs it in the mouth with all her strength, the end of her club hitting it in the gums, knocking a few of its teeth out of its mouth. Another runs towards Eve's face. She places an open hand over its face and pushes it back several feet, knocking it over. Frantically, Eve jams her thumb into the eye of the toddler on her right leg. It sinks deep into the flaps of the monster's eye, black blood spraying out from the hole. The creature releases its bite, its head bending backwards. It lets out a horrifying shriek with incredible volume. Turning on her side slightly, Eve pins its head to the floor with one hand and pushes her club in through its eyehole. It begins to shriek louder and louder as the club sinks into its head. Its body convulses and blood sprays from its mouth and eye until it finally goes limp and its hands slide from her leg.

As soon as it dies, another toddler falls onto her opposite leg, biting into her upper thigh, right above the second one. This is the one whose front teeth Eve had knock out, but with most of its teeth intact it scarcely makes a difference. Eve let's out a a moan, her voice cracking as she does so. Reaching round its head she digs her middle finger into its eye and pulls it loose as it cries out. Eve picks it up and throws it. The she digs her thumb into the eye of the second one, pulls it loose and throws it. Hurriedly, Eve drags herself to a far corner, pushing herself along with her throbbing legs. She props her back up against the wall.

There is a cacophonous sea of shrill, crying toddlers. All of whom have battle scars. Bloodied, with warped skulls and sunken chests, they rise again and advance on their target once more. Eve goes cold, and for a brief moment, watches them with detached fascination. Their faces are contorted now, in what resembles a crying expression. Their faces covered in blood, deep, bloody wounds in some of their eyes, they continue onward relentlessly.

Pushing herself up against the wall, Eve slowly, painfully, rises to her feet. The monsters are closing in around her. She inhales deeply, then limps towards the toddlers. _How are they suddenly so much stronger? _Eve grips her club tightly. As one, bloodied toddler stumbles toward her. Eve hits it in the side of the face with a primal blow. It falls forward, landing face down. She rolls it onto its back. Raising her club high over her head she swings down on its face with all her strength. It releases a long, piercing squeal, it arms and legs thrashing and twisting in agony. Hitting it twice more, its face caves in and it dies. Two more creatures step within walking distance. Eve kicks one under the chin, its head snapping backwards as it falls onto its back. Pushing the other one down, Eve drives her club through its already bloodied eye. Its body goes limp. She lifts a leg high in the air and stomps on the one she kicked, her heel smashing its skull.

Two remain. Eve swings at one, hitting it in the side of the head. It flies sideways, its head hitting the wall. Running up to it, Eve kicks its head against the wall till it stops moving. Finally, letting the last one walk up to her, Eve brings the club down on the top of its head with a vicious blow. As it falls to the ground, Eve hits it again and again, the toddler squealing in agonising pain. As the fifth blow falls, its head collapses, black blood exploding out in all directions. Specks of blood cast freckles over her shins.

Eve pants heavily. Gulping, she draws in a deep breath, dropping her head to her chest. Exhaling, she notices a gurgling, crying sound. Looking toward the sound source, Eve sees one of the toddlers lying on the floor, away from the rest. She walks to it. Its head is twisted to the side, blood bubbling from its mouth. It's lying flat on its back. Eve had broken its neck at the beginning of the fight, but it wasn't dead. It lay, paralysed, crying impotently. Eve looks down on it with disgust. She is in a state of shock and feels entirely detached. She snaps suddenly and starts bashing its skull with her club.

"Die, you fucking monster!" She screams, beating it maniacally, "Die! Die! Die you fucking demon!"

Hitting it seven, then eight times, the toddler's head is totally crushed. Beaten beyond all recognition. Eve pants heavily, looking down at the mangled corpse beneath her. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest. The blanket of ash begins to peel away and dissolve, disappearing into thin air right before her eyes. As she begins to catch her breath, Eve notices the sound of static (from the two-way radio) fade away. She moves over to it. _The static reacts to the monsters._ Walking over to it, she picks it up. It's a small, hand-held, walkie-talkie. It's black, approximately four inches in length, with a dial and led screen with the channel displayed on it. On the top it has a small antenna, and on the back a belt clip. Eve clips it on her belt.

She staggers towards the door, painfully, limping on both legs almost bow-leggedly. She turns the door handle and steps out into the snow. Eve has withdrawn within herself and her mind is clear - no thoughts stirring. Limping down the street she moves mechanically, oblivious to her surroundings. Block after block passes. The grim, monochrome buildings watch her pass by. The streetlights loom overhead, hanging with piteous expressions. Her trek seems to last an eternity; and, staggering forwards, Eve feels as though she is circling a drain into oblivion. Several blocks onwards, Eve's radio begins to buzz. She glances upward, and, soon after, one of the mothers comes through the snow. Crossing over to the opposite side of the road, limping as quickly as her legs will take her. Thereafter, no monsters cross her path; but the trek continues down a seemingly endless street.

As Eve gets back within the violet aura of the motel, she sees a figure through the snow. As she gets nearer, she becomes cognisant of who it is: the man she had met earlier, the only other person she's seen in this horrible place. She staggers towards him, her face cold and expressionless. As she nears him, he gestures to her. He is asking her something, but she can't understand what it is he is saying to her. As soon as she gets within arms length of him, she stops, staring at him with a detached expression. He stops talking, watching her with concerned, searching eyes. Slowly, Eve's eyes begin to water. Her lips begin to tremble. Parting her lips she starts to gasp, she tries to speak but can't get any words out. Finally, she throws herself in his arms, wrapping her arms around his chest tightly.

"Please! Please help me!"

The man guides her back up to their motel room, supporting her with one arm around her waist. Throwing open the door, he leads Eve to the bed, setting her down, then closing the door behind them. He stands over this shaken woman, who looks as though she has totally lost her grip on reality. Looking over her, he notices the blood stains on her legs.

"Jesus," the man gets to his knees and pulls off Eve's shoes. "Let's take your pants off," the man instructs.

Eve dutifully complies. Undoing her belt, she unzips her jeans - rocking from side-to-side as she pulls her pants down below her waist. The man grabs the bottom of her pant leg, pulling her jeans off one leg at a time. Blood is smeared over her left thigh and right calf, with arched rows of small pinhole punctures - bruised and swollen. He grabs Eve's thigh, inspecting the bite marks.

"Hold on," he says flatly.

The man gets up and walks into the bathroom. Eve hears him rustling around some cupboards and drawers. Soon after he returns, with a face towel and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Looking down at her wounds, the man turns the bottle over, soaking the towel in rubbing alcohol. He kneels down between Eve's knees and places on hand on her left thigh.

"This is gonna sting."

As the cloth runs over Eve's thigh, she winces, drawing in a short, shallow breath. Doubling back for a third, then fourth pass, most of the blood is wiped away and the wounds seem satisfactorily sanitised. He then moves to her right leg, grabbing her ankle and lifting her leg. He starts to wash her calf, Eve wincing once more as he does so. Finally he lets her leg go and rises to his feet.

"Unfortunately, there are no bandages or anything of that sort… Hopefully this will do the trick."

He makes his way to the bathroom, shortly thereafter Eve hears the sound of a running faucet. Wiping his hands dry on his pants, he returns and sits next to Eve on the bed. Grabbing her hand, he places it in his.

"You're on the right course, I'm sure of it," he says, smiling warmly.

Eve turns to him, her eyes meeting his. They lock glances for a long time, slowly leaning in towards each other. He leans over in front of Eve and kisses her, his course moustaches scratching her lip. Running his hands up under her shirt he grabs her breasts. Eve jumps slightly, pushing him back with both hands. He starts forward, pushing Eve onto her back and groping her breasts over her bra. His lips up against hers, he kisses Eve aggressively. She pushes back momentarily, then relents. Running a hand down over her midriff, his fingers search under her panties, fingering her moist labia. Eve pushes him back slightly, then sits up. Grabbing the bottom of her shirt she pulls it up over her head and drops it on the floor. Reaching with both hands behind her back, Eve unhooks her bra and drops it to the floor, revealing her large, sumptuous breasts.

Analysing her chest, the man's hand slides out from Eve's underwear as he removes his own shirt. His chest is broad, hairy, and muscular, one crafted by years of heavy physical labour. Shimmying, Eve works her underwear down her thighs, then drops them to her ankles. Hanging on one foot, Eve drops her underwear atop her bra. The man unbuckles his belt. Then, unbuttoning them and unzipping his jeans, he pulls them off, then his white boxers.

Eve slides up on the bed, lying her head on its pillow. One hand at her side, the other resting back by her head, she lies expectantly, the violent glow from the window washing over her pale, naked body. Shadows run across her side, from ribs, faintly visible through her thin, under-nourished body. Her cheeks sink in slightly, accentuating her finely sculpted cheekbones. The man climbs up next to her, his eyes moving over her body as he replaces his hand between her thighs. Looking into her eyes, Eve draws his head down to her chest. He kisses her breasts slowly, then takes her erect, supple nipple in his mouth, he sucks on it, nibbling on it slightly as his fingers caress her wet clitoris. Eve draws her knees up, spreading her legs. Then placing a hand on his side, she guides him on top of her.

Now atop Eve, his hips pressed against hers, he draws his hand out from between her legs and places them over her lips. Eve lips part and his fingers slide into her mouth. She sucks on his fingers, tasting the flavour of her own vagina. He pulls his fingers from her mouth, then reaches down. Grabbing himself, then pushing forward, he slides inside Eve. She moans softly. He lays atop her and buries his face in her neck as he slowly pushes forward.

Eve awakes to the dim violet light of her motel room. Sitting upright, she runs her hand through her hair, combing it away from her face. As she clears her throat, the man she had slept with emerges from the bathroom. He leans up against the door frame.

"You're up," he says.

"Yep."

"I'm headed out… Unfortunately, I have my own shit to deal with."

Walking to the door, he grabs his jacket off the hook and puts in on. He opens the door.

"Wait," Eve says.

He turns around and locks eyes with Eve.

"I didn't get your name," she continues.

"Dan."

"Alright," Eve says with a grin, "Seeya, Dan."

"Goodbye, Eve."

He steps outside and closes the door. Eve looks down into her lap. Sighing, she sits there silently for a few minutes, recalling the events of the last few days. Looking back, it only seems more surreal, and she succumbs to her horrifying dream. Nothing left to do but continue with this twisted puzzle, she draws her blankets over and rises, naked, from the bed, then crouches over the documents in her jacket on the floor. Eve retrieves 'The Premature Burial' and continues reading from where she left off:

_An officer of artillery, a man of gigantic stature and of robust health, being thrown from an unmanageable horse, received a very severe contusion upon the head, which rendered him insensible at once; the skull was slightly fractured, but no immediate danger was apprehended. Trepanning was accomplished successfully. He was bled, and many other of the ordinary means of relief were adopted. Gradually, however, he fell into a more and more hopeless state of stupor, and, finally, it was thought that he died._

_The weather was warm, and he was buried with indecent haste in one of the public cemeteries. His funeral took place on Thursday. On the Sunday following, the grounds of the cemetery were, as usual, much thronged with visiters, and about noon an intense excitement was created by the declaration of a peasant that, while sitting upon the grave of the officer, he had distinctly felt a commotion of the earth, as if occasioned by some one struggling beneath. At first little attention was paid to the man's asseveration; but his evident terror, and the dogged obstinacy with which he persisted in his story, had at length their natural effect upon the crowd. Spades were hurriedly procured, and the grave, which was shamefully shallow, was in a few minutes so far thrown open that the head of its occupant appeared. He was then seemingly dead; but he sat nearly erect within his coffin, the lid of which, in his furious struggles, he had partially uplifted._

_He was forthwith conveyed to the nearest hospital, and there pronounced to be still living, although in an asphytic condition. After some hours he revived, recognized individuals of his acquaintance, and, in broken sentences spoke of his agonies in the grave._

_[…]_

_This patient, it is recorded, was doing well and seemed to be in a fair way of ultimate recovery, but fell a victim to the quackeries of medical experiment. The galvanic battery was applied, and he suddenly expired in one of those ecstatic paroxysms which, occasionally, it superinduces._

_The mention of the galvanic battery, nevertheless, recalls to my memory a well known and very extraordinary case in point, where its action proved the means of restoring to animation a young attorney of London, who had been interred for two days. This occurred in 1831, and created, at the time, a very profound sensation wherever it was made the subject of converse._

_The patient, Mr. Edward Stapleton, had died, apparently of typhus fever, accompanied with some anomalous symptoms which had excited the curiosity of his medical attendants. Upon his seeming decease, his friends were requested to sanction a post-mortem examination, but declined to permit it. As often happens, when such refusals are made, the practitioners resolved to disinter the body and dissect it at leisure, in private. Arrangements were easily effected with some of the numerous corps of body-snatchers, with which London abounds; and, upon the third night after the funeral, the supposed corpse was unearthed from a grave eight feet deep, and deposited in the opening chamber of one of the private hospitals._

_An incision of some extent had been actually made in the abdomen, when the fresh and undecayed appearance of the subject suggested an application of the battery. One experiment succeeded another, and the customary effects supervened, with nothing to characterize them in any respect, except, upon one or two occasions, a more than ordinary degree of life-likeness in the convulsive action._

_It grew late. The day was about to dawn; and it was thought expedient, at length, to proceed at once to the dissection. A student, however, was especially desirous of testing a theory of his own, and insisted upon applying the battery to one of the pectoral muscles. A rough gash was made, and a wire hastily brought in contact, when the patient, with a hurried but quite unconvulsive movement, arose from the table, stepped into the middle of the floor, gazed about him uneasily for a few seconds, and then-spoke. What he said was unintelligible, but words were uttered; the syllabification was distinct. Having spoken, he fell heavily to the floor._

_For some moments all were paralyzed with awe-but the urgency of the case soon restored them their presence of mind. It was seen that Mr. Stapleton was alive, although in a swoon. Upon exhibition of ether he revived and was rapidly restored to health, and to the society of his friends-from whom, however, all knowledge of his resuscitation was withheld, until a relapse was no longer to be apprehended. Their wonder-their rapturous astonishment-may be conceived._

Eve marks the page and sets down the documents. Rising to her feet, Eve limps to the window. She parts the blinds and peeks through. There is a light snowfall outside, the neon lights still radiate over the snow-covered lot. Not a soul stirs, except one of the mothers, which staggers aimlessly on the far side of the motel parking lot. Eve watches it momentarily and then lets the blinds snap close. She turns her back to the window. _I'm in no condition to go anywhere at this point, and, in any case, I have no idea where I need to go next… maybe the best idea is to wait until Dan comes back. Hopefully, he can help me figure out where I need to go next._ Eve walks over to the bed and sits on the edge.

Hours pass. The man with whom Eve had spent the night with does not return. For hours, she paces her motel room, racking her brain for some hint, some idea as to what she should do next. Nothing comes to her. The hours progress, Dan does not return and no new ideas occur to her. Gradually a lethargy comes over Eve. She climbs back into bed, pulling the blankets up past her waist. Another hour or more, she spends it staring up at the wall in limbo. Taking one more glance towards the door, Eve succumbs to sleep.

Eve awakes to darkness. Immediately she's gripped by a sharp pain in her chest. _I can't breathe._ Raising her hands up over her, her hands meet with cold concrete. Eve presses up against the surface over her, trying to raise it. But it's set with an incredible weight. _I've been buried alive._ Beginning to hyperventilate, Eve pushes up with all her strength, groaning. The groan turns into a primal scream scream as she feel the surface over top of her move slightly. She pushes up and slowly moves the lid of a concrete lid over to the right. As soon as enough space has been made. Eve climbs out from her stone coffin, falling onto the hard cold floor beside.

Eve gasps for air, pressing a hand to her chest. Screaming and coughing, she feels body trembling as she slowly pulls herself together. As she becomes cognisant of her surroundings, she finds herself in another blackened tomb. Not a shaft of light penetrates this place. She cannot tell how small or large it is, but the air is stuffy and oppressive. Rising to her feet she staggers around in the darkness, her arms outstretch blindly. A few steps, and her hands meet with a cold, metallic surface. She feels around it an finds a latch. Eve pulls the latch up. There is a heavy click and the door opens to reveal a stretch of grass, then a large lake. Overhead, a large, grey sky. Eve emerges from the room, walking down three cold sandstone steps. As she steps into the grass, she turns round and looks at the room from which she had escaped. It is a small mausoleum. Constructed from sandstone, it resembles a roman construct. With two pillars on each side of the rusted iron door and a triangular roof, the mausoleum is engraved above the door with a single name: _Cranach_.

Eve turns to face the lake and begins to walk towards it, mechanically. Her body drifts the edge of the lake and then stops. She draws in a breath, then steps to the edge of the water; but, rather than sinking in, her foot plats firmly on its surface, ripples scattering outwards. Eve takes another step over the water, then she begins to walk across the surface of the lake. Walking faster now, she speeds into a jog, then a full run. She races across the surface of the lake and the grey clouds overhead dissolve into a bright cerulean sky. The sun shines warmly on Eve's back as she sprints across the surface of the lake. Before long she makes it to the opposite side of the lake.

Standing before Eve is a large granite statue of an angel. Its back is to Eve, as it faces away from the lake. She places her hand on its stone wings, and lets her hand run over it as she rounds the statue, smiling up at it reminiscently. Then, making it all the way around Eve freezes. Standing in front of the statue, there is a man and woman - shoulder to shoulder - with a small girl in front of them. They are all looking up at the statue. It is Eve's mother and father, and the little girl is Eve herself. Her mother and father's faces are obscured, but young Eve is not. She looks up with wide, sparkling eyes, her hair parted down the middle, smiling with rosy cheeks.

Eve awakes to the violet glow of her motel room. _Cranach Park._ Eve pulls the blankets off, turns, and sets her feet on the floor. Placing one arm over her bare breasts, she dashes to her documents. Grabbing the map Eve unfolds and places a finger in the northeast corner of the map. _Cranach Park, I've been there so many times as a child… This must mean something! This must have some significance._ Eve rifles through the documents, coming to the picture of Adam and Eve. She glance as the bottom of the page: _'Adam and Eve', Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1526._ A sudden sense of conviction swells up in Eve as she finds a new found optimism.

_I need to go to Cranach Park!_


	12. Chapter 12: Cranach Park

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XII: Chapter 12 continues with Eve's story. This is the BIG REVELATION for Eve's portion of the story. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART and not Adult Fanfiction as previously stated. Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XII.**

Snow falls heavily on the street as Eve walks hurriedly onward. She's slept five times since she's arrived in Silent Hill, since she woke up in that horrible hospital. _Five sleeps._ The only indication of how long she's been in this world. There is no daytime here, only perpetual night. No clocks. Each one she finds displays a different time. Eve pulls her jacket closed, protecting her from the chill. Her radio begins to crackle, and through the curtain of snow a mother comes into sight. Crossing to the opposite side of the street, she hurries past it. The monster staggers on blindly, taking no notice of her. _To Cranach._ Eve skips into a jog, as she passes into an unlit block. Outside of the light she's totally blind, and only her radio can warn her of approaching danger.

Eve continues. Heading northeast from the motel, towards the park. Before long, she hits another stretch of lit blocks. One hand is gripped loosely around her club. With her opposite hand she reaches into her pocket, retrieving the red corsage she found at the daycare. Pacing on, Eve analyses it. A red rose, green leaves around its base.

_Seventeen years old. Eve stands in front of a tall mirror. She wears a long white dress. Her jet black hair worn up in a bun, her bangs part on the sides of her face. Eve steps from the mirror to her dresser, grabbing the red corsage. Stepping back to the mirror, she clips it to her dress. Looking over her outfit, Eve smiles. Drawing in a deep breath, she exhales nervously, then opening the bedroom door she steps into the hall. Eve runs down the stairs. Reaching the door, Eve turns the padlock._

"_Eve?" a voice calls out to her._

_She turns from the door, her dad sits on the couch. His face is a blur._

"_How do I look?" Eve asks with a smile. Holding out her arms, Eve spins around to show him the full outfit._

"_You look beautiful," her father replies breathlessly._

Looking up from her corsage Eve sees a strip mall directly in front of her, in the middle a building catches her eye, its door ajar. _Mellow Gates Gun Shop._ Walking to the front door, Eve pushes it open, staring into the darkness. She steps inside cautiously, and as her eyes adjust it becomes apparent that the store has been cleared. _Shit, the place has been ransacked._ She walks up to the counter. Leaning over it, she looks around for anything that may be of any use. Beneath the counter there are boxes of ammunition, but there don't appear to be any guns. _Fuck._ Eve turns around and leans up against the counter, folding her arms. She scans the room. Open boxes litter the floor. Eve bites her lip. _There must have been dozens of people here before me. Each one clamouring for a gun. But where the hell is everyone? Did they all get killed? Maybe they got out of this place… Maybe there is some way out of here._

Eve's eyes stop as they fall on a tall, unopened box. Standing right next to the door. She pushes herself forward from the desk and walks towards it. Picking up the box, Eve pulls open the flap. Reaching in, her fingers touch a cold, metallic tube. Grabbing it, she pulls it from the box. _A rifle… I've had one like this before._ Eve grabs its handle, placing her finger over its trigger. She holds it up, looking through the sights. A rush, hits her. A sudden memory.

_She walks through a wooded area, just blocks from her home. Trash is littered about: plastic bags, coffee cups, scraps of wood, crushed cardboard boxes. Eve holds the rifle in her hands, stepping over a fallen tree. Wearing a stained, faded grey shirt, a pair of jean shorts, and dirty white running shoes. Eve is ten years old, and she's taken the rifle from her father's closet. Turning round, she holds the rifle up proudly._

"_I can hit anything," Eve brags._

_A boy her age follows behind her, stepping over the fallen tree. He's dressed in a pair of dirty blue overalls. His blonde hair matted to his head._

"_Anything?" he replies._

"_Anything," Eve says confidently, "I'm a pro with this thing. My dad taught me to shoot it… Pick something out, anything. I'll get it in one shot."_

"_Hm," the little boy looks around, searching the treetops for a particularly difficult target, "Shoot that bird."_

_Eve turns and looks in the direction the boy is pointing. Thirty feet on, a small brown bird sits on the end of a branch, chirping. Watching it for a few seconds, she turns back to the boy._

"_Too easy."_

_Raising the large gun up, Eve looks through the sights. Standing still for a moment, she adjust the heavy rifle a few times, then, holding her breath, she squeezes the trigger. There's a thunderous bang as Eve staggers back from the recoil. The bird falls from the tree._

"_Holy!" the boys gasps. Eve rubs her shoulder, turning to him and smiling triumphantly._

"_Told you."_

_The two children run towards their kill then stop standing over it. But the expression on their faces changes, from smiles to detached horror as they look down on the little bird. The small brown bird lies in the grass with its wings spread outward. Its torso is split open and its organs are strewn out around it._

Eve cocks the gun, and pulls the trigger, hearing a metallic click. _It's a Mossberg 464, my dad had the exact same gun. _The rifle has a dark brown, wooden stock and grip. Walking around the counter Eve looks through the ammunition, for the appropriate bullets. _Bingo, 464's!_ Grabbing the two boxes lying there, Eve grabs a few bullets, loading them into the rifle. Eve suddenly sets the rifle down on the counter as her eyes fall on a jacket hanging over the back of a chair. She pulls it off the chair and holds it up, looking over it. It's a solid green arm jacket. It has a pair of large pockets on the outside, two deep pocket on the inside, and two breast pockets. Over the breast pockets there is an American flag patch and a blue patch with a large white crescent on it. Matching red and yellow patches are sewn on both shoulder. Assessing it, Eve transfers all of her things over from her jean jacket and, casting her old jacket over the back of the chair, slips on the green army jacket. _It's a little big, but it's better than what I had. _Grabbing a black leather strap off of a rack next to the counter, Eve fastens it to her rifle. Then, throwing the rifle over her shoulder she exits the gun store.

Checking her map, Eve continues her trek through the streets of Silent Hill. In a strange way, the atmosphere seems deceptively peaceful and a solemn comfort blankets Eve. Block after block pass her by, and soon the tall wrought-iron gates come into focus through the snowfall. There is a wide entrance with a large arch over it. And on the black, iron arch gothic letters display its name: _Cranach Park._

Eve crosses through the gateway. Looking as far off into the distance as she can manage, nostalgia washes over her. This is the park she's had such fond memories of. She sees the apparition of her childhood self, roaming this park, playing with imaginary figures as she darts across from one point to another. A wide, asphalt walkway stretches onward, lined on each side with tall birch trees. Black, gothic-style lamps arch over the walkway, casting a pale, greenish-blue glow. Eve walks down the pathway. Her radio begins to crackle and soon after a toddler emerges through the snow. Taking a few strides towards the monster, Eve raises her rifle and pulls back the hammer. The monster catches sight of her and giggles joyously, running towards her on its stubby legs. Eve looks through the sights of her rifle. Squeezing the trigger, there is a thunderous clap. The toddler's head bursts open, black blood exploding all around it. It collapses lifelessly to the ground with a heavy thud. Lowering her rifle, she rushes past the fallen body.

As Eve jogs onwards, she comes to a fountain. At its centre, a large stone flower sprays water up into the air, which cascades down over the edges into the basin below. She remembers this fountain well, from better days, from her childhood. She had visited Silent Hill, had come to this park, on many occasions as a child, with her mom and dad. She used to love to jump into the fountain and splash around. That was before she hit puberty, before her mother turned against her.

One path from the fountain the walkway leads directly onwards, two other paths branch off to the East and West. From her memory, Eve recalls the the first leads to the lake, and the East and West paths loop around, leading back to the fountain. Eve takes the Westward path first. Now, off the main path, it is somewhat darker, the trees seem to engulf the lamplight a little more. The path swerves around a scenic route, with creeks and little bridges. Every so often, a park bench passes, but nothing of any seeming importance. Coming round the stretch at the end, looping round to the opposite side leading back to the fountain, Eve's radio begins to crackle. She pauses, gripping her rifle, then steps cautiously forward. One of the mothers stands fifteen or twenty feet in front of her, underneath one of the park lamps, in front of a bench. Eve watches it, inching toward it, but the monster remains motionless. Her eye catches something on the park bench behind it. A gold object glittering in the lamplight. Eve advances quicker and the mother jerks into motion, staggering towards her with unnatural, robotic motions. Eve aims her rifle at the creature and fires. A loud clap reverberates through the park, the monster's head snapping sideways as a chunk of its skull breaks loose. Still staggering towards her, Eve gets a little closer and fires again. Its head splits in two and it falls forwards on its stomach, which bursts open. A baby rolls out into the snow and immediately begins squealing. Eve's face distorts with disgust and she steps over to it, and stomps on its head. The monster goes limp.

Eve turns her attention over to the gold object. Walking over to it, she picks it up. It's half of a broken, golden bowl. Around its side there is a deep groove. _Where have I seen this before… What was that line? From Poe's 'Premature Burial'?_ _The silver cord was not for ever loosed, nor the golden bowl irreparably broken._ Eve takes the bowl, heading back on her path.

Eventually she comes back to the fountain, this time taking the Eastward path. It takes some time, and Eve inspects her environment for anything which may aid her in her journey. Following its snaking path, she passes benches and bridges, lamps and statues, arriving back at the fountain without finding anything of any seeming value. Eve heads Northward, towards the lake, along the way she crosses paths with a toddler, she evades it moving onwards to the lake. Emerging from the main park she comes to the lake, with the statue of an angel at the head of her path. The snow has stopped. Eve analyses the statue. It is the image of a woman, her wings extended outwards and her body lunging forward, as though she is taking off in flight. And the angel holds out her hands, upwards, as if holding up some invisible object. Eve reads the placard on the statue: _The Angel Of Life._ Eve is reminded once more of the 'Premature Burial': _The silver cord was not for ever loosed, nor the golden bowl irreparably broken._

Suddenly, her eye is caught by the sky, now entirely clear. There are no stars in the sky, only a black vacuous vault. But Eve is struck, stunned by what she _does_ see in the sky. Two planets sit in the skyline, proportionally positioned at equal 45 degree angles from Eve and the statue. Venus and Mars. And they are so close to the earth that its seems as though they are headed to crash into the planet. They loom closer to the surface of the earth than the moon has ever come, so close that Eve can make out their details, the streaks and crevices of the planet's surfaces. Huge red and orange orbs in the night's sky. Eve watches them with detached awe and admiration.

_Sometimes I don't want to wake up from this nightmare… Sometimes this world is too beautiful. How can this place be so horrible, yet so attractive? So terrifying, yet so entrancing? If I ever get out of Silent Hill, this paradoxical world, can I take these things with me? I wish I could show people some of these things… They deserve to see these beautiful nightmares._

Eve sighs, and walks past the statue to the edge of the lake. A row boat sits at the edge of the lake as though it was put there specifically for her. She knows she needs to cross the lake, to get to the mausoleum, as she had seen in her dream. She steps into the boat. There, sitting in the boat, a silver cord. Eve picks it up and looks over it. _The silver cord was not for ever loosed, nor the golden bowl irreparably broken. _Putting it in her pocket, Eve grabs a paddle, pushing off the shore with it. Then, grabbing the other paddle, Eve rows across the lake, into the darkness. As she gets farther from the lights of the park, the blackness becomes total, and Eve can no longer see even her arms rowing. But this darkness makes the planets in the sky seem to glow all the more brightly. Eve looks up at them as she rows.

Minutes pass, and Eve's boat hits the opposite shore. She steps out from the boat onto the snow-covered grass. She sees the mausoleum, with its pillars, it faux-Greek design, just ten yards ahead of. Standing at its door, a shadowy figure.

"Hello?" Eve calls out. No reply.

Eve heads towards it, but as she nears it, the shadow dissipates. Unfazed, she walks up its sandstone steps, and pulling a latch, the door opens with a deep groan, reverberating within the stone mausoleum. Eve walks in and she can barely see a thing. Walking with her arms extended outwards, Eve's fingertips touch the cold surface of the granite coffin. Eve presses her hands against its edge. With a groan She pushes back the heavy lid. She reaches into the coffin, groping around blindly. Her hands come over a cold, smooth, metallic object. Eve grabs it and pulls it out. _The other half of the golden bowl._ Turning from the coffin, Eve exits the mausoleum, so as to see this item a little clearer. Eve puts the two portions of the golden bowl together. _They fit together perfectly._ But there is no way to keep them together. Eve grabs the silver cord from her pocket, placing the two pieces of the bowl together, she wraps the cord around it's grove and ties it. _The silver cord was not for ever loosed, nor the golden bowl irreparably broken._

Eve takes the bowl back to the row boat. Stepping inside she sets the bowl down in her lap and begins to row to the opposite side. With no breeze, no people, the sound of the paddles hitting the water takes on an almost visceral quality. A few moments of stifling silence, and she hears another sound in the vacuum. Eve turns to face the sounds she has heard and sees another boat wading across the lake of Cranach Park. The shadow she had seen in front of the mausoleum is there again, this time the figure stands in the boat, holding a bundle in its arms. Eve squeezes her eyes shut for a minute, and when she opens it, the figure is gone. She continues rowing across the lake. Eventually, her boat hits the shore she had departed from, and Eve steps out from the boat, holding the golden bowl in her hands. As she walks over to the statue, her boat drifts from the edge of the lake, floating off into the darkness. Eve steps to the front of the statue. Raising the golden bowl, she places it in the upturned hands of the statue.

A pale green glow begins to emanate from the lake, near its edge, and the water begins to bubble as if it were boiling. Gradually the bubbling develops into a frothing, rolling boil, and the green light from below its surface grows wider and brighter. Eve staggers backwards as she watches this surreal event, and as the bubbling water reaches a peak, a head of black hair emerges from below the surface. Green light cast across its face, its hair partially obscuring its identity, Eve can make it out. Its the face of a woman, her features grotesquely swollen, her skin rotting and discoloured. The figure rises from the water, moving towards Eve. Her shoulder, then chest emerge from the lake. Her body is rotten and bloated, her skin peeling loose in chunks. The woman's breasts and distended belly are covered with lesions and maggots fall from the open wounds of her flesh. Now the waist and legs of this woman emerge. She steps onto the grass, walking towards Eve with what seems like a warped, malicious grin. As the woman steps out from the lake, the pale glow dissipates and the water settles.

"Eve," the woman groans, her voice gurgling as water spills from her mouth.

Eve gasps, putting a hand over her mouth, as she comes to the sudden realisation of who this woman is.

"_Mom?_" Eve asks, her eyes wide with terror.

"Eve," she repeats, coughing and gurgling up water, "What have you done?"

Eve begins to tremble, her legs beginning to buckle and quiver. She stares at her mother with wide-eyed disbelief, tears welling up in them.

"You fucking whore," her mother hisses, "What have you done?"

"Oh, God!" Eve whispers, her body swaying slightly as she verges on fainting.

"What have you done!?"

"_What_… I don't know what you're talking about."

"What have you done!"

"I don't know, mom, I don't know!"

"You would strut around, with your tits pushed up. Tempting, always tempting! Like some stupid whore! You were constantly flirting, spreading your legs for anyone who'd put it in your filthy trap! And what happened, whore? Did you think you could get away with it? Did you think there would be no consequences? No punishment?"

"I didn't want to, mom!"

"You were begging for it! And God knows you got it!"

"It's not true!"  
"Quiet, slut" Eve's mother disdainfully replies.

As her mother takes another step towards her, Eve raises her rifle in warning. Her hands trembling, she pulls back the hammer. Her mother grins mockingly, and as she takes another step forward Eve pulls the trigger with a thunderous bang. It hits Eve's mother in the chest. Her breast bursts open and maggots spill out onto the grass. Eve lets out a horrified cry as her legs give out from under her and falls to the ground crying.

"Let me show you what you've done," Eve's mother growls.

"No… Please!" Eve begs, her hands clasped as if in prayer.

"Come, whore!"

Eve's mother grabs her by the hair, dragging her violently towards the edge of the lake. She begins to scream and cry, grabbing her mother's rotting arms so her hair isn't ripped out as she's dragged. She withdraws into a state of helplessness and all her tenacity and strength evaporates. Her mother drags her, screaming and crying, then drops her at the edge of the water.

"Look!" Eve's mother commands, pointing out at the water.

"No!"

"Look!" Her mother repeats, pulling Eve's hair back violently, so she faces the lake.

The pale, green light swells up again, and the water begins to bubble. Growing into a rolling boil, a small body rises from the lake. It's the body of a baby. Limp. Dead. Its corpse drifts across the surface of the water, stopping at its edge, right at Eve's knees.

"_No… No._"

_Eve pants heavily, clouds of condensation rising from her mouth in the cold February air. She walks urgently through a wooded area, her shoes leaving long strides in the the snow-covered grass. Her breaths stutter, her eyes are welled with tears. Eve hurries along carrying a bundled load in her arms. The muffled cries of a baby. Eve squeezes her eyes shut, and a tear rolls down her cheek, as she tries to ignore the cries. Finally, she emerges from the wooded area, to the edge of a lake. Eve squeezes her eyes closed again tightly, and seems to whisper a prayer to herself. Then, opening her eyes, she pulls open the bundle to reveal a baby. The baby is red-faced, crying, and it has a severely cleft lip. Eve throws her head back, looking into the starry nights sky as if she is stalling, hoping some last minute interruption will occur, someone or something would stop her. But no such opportunity arises, and Eve looks down at her baby._

"_I'm sorry," Eve says, and then casts the baby into the lake._

"This is your baby, whore!" Eve mother hisses, "This is the child you killed!"

Eve falls over onto her side, covering her face with her hands.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know what to do!"

"You knew _exactly_ what to do! You knew exactly how to spread your legs! How to flirt! How to show your tits! And this is what you got! And this is where you will stay, Eve! This is where you will stay, _forever_!"


	13. Chapter 13: Maggie

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XIII: Chapter 13 is the second last chapter in Eve's story. This is also the LONGEST chapter in the story thus far, so strap in. This chapter establishes all of the clues for the remainder of the story. As a result there are alot of documents which may be a little dry, but they will pay off in the end. The last chapter of part two is already written and I plan to upload it Sunday. This chapter contains the return of a major character. Unfortunately, the last chapter received almost NO SUPPORT which is really disheartening. I IMPLORE YOU: If you are reading this story and you enjoy it, PLEASE SUPPORT IT! If we can get those reviews, favs, and follows up, it would help me so much... I NEED YOUR SUPPORT. There is one more VERY SHORT CHAPTER, and then we get back to Adam's story. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART and not Adult Fanfiction as previously stated. Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XIII.**

_THE CONQUEROR WORM._

_Edgar Allen Poe_

_LO! 't is a gala night _

_Within the lonesome latter years! _

_An angel throng, bewinged, bedight _

_In veils, and drowned in tears, _

_Sit in a theatre, to see _

_A play of hopes and fears, _

_While the orchestra breathes fitfully _

_The music of the spheres._

_Mimes, in the form of God on high, _

_Mutter and mumble low, _

_And hither and thither fly— _

_Mere puppets they, who come and go _

_At bidding of vast formless things _

_That shift the scenery to and fro, _

_Flapping from out their Condor wings _

_Invisible Woe!_

_That motley drama!—oh, be sure _

_It shall not be forgot! _

_With its Phantom chased for evermore, _

_By a crowd that seize it not, _

_Through a circle that ever returneth in _

_To the self-same spot, _

_And much of Madness, and more of Sin _

_And Horror the soul of the plot._

_But see, amid the mimic rout, _

_A crawling shape intrude! _

_A blood-red thing that writhes from out _

_The scenic solitude! _

_It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs _

_The mimes become its food, _

_And the angels sob at vermin fangs _

_In human gore imbued._

_Out—out are the lights—out all! _

_And over each quivering form, _

_The curtain, a funeral pall, _

_Comes down with the rush of a storm, _

_And the angels, all pallid and wan, _

_Uprising, unveiling, affirm _

_That the play is the tragedy "Man," _

_And its hero the Conqueror Worm._

Turning over the poem, Eve marks another tally in a long row. Seventy-two tallies. The number of times Eve has slept since she found herself in Silent Hill. Seventy-two days, or whatever you could call this. For the last thirty days, or so, she hasn't seen Dan, or anybody else for that matter. The violet light of the motel sign filters in through the window, and Eve looks up from the sheet and sighs - staring out at the window. With nowhere to go and nothing to do, she rises lethargically from her chair by the window, placing her sheet aside. She steps to the door and grabs the army jacket she had pilfered many days ago, sliding it over her shoulder.

Opening the door, she steps outside. The fog is less thick today. Eve can almost see clear across the parking lot. Jamming her hands into her pockets and dropping her chin to her chest, she heads down the stairs and across the parking lot to take a walk. All that drives Eve onward is a stubborn refusal to die, for some reason she can't explain, she doesn't take her own life. But day after day, hour after hour, time passes by and she continues without surrender. Without surrender, but also without hope. No discernible goal. Sometimes her memory of the past fades and she can't imagine another world from this one. Silent Hill has swallowed her entirely, body and soul. Still she continues.

Several blocks pass. Eve left her rifle back at the motel, taking only her radio to warn her of monsters. The mist swirls around her as she paces down the middle of the road. She stares down at her feet as she walks. _I wonder if I will ever see Dan again._ Suddenly, the silence is broken.

"Hello?" a woman's voice calls out to her.

Eve stops in her tracks. Looking up, she sees the silhouette of a woman in the distance, standing at a cautious distance from her. Eve closes her eyes. Taking in a deep breath, she exhales. Then, opening her eyes, the figure is still there.

"Hello?" the woman calls out again, her voice shaken.

Eve shakes her head and blinks. _Can this be real?_ The figure takes two steps closer.

"Hello? _Hello_?"

"Hello?" Eve replies.

The figure starts walking closer to Eve and the woman comes into sight. She's a strikingly beautiful, voluptuous woman, with long auburn hair. She wears a long, dark green cotton jacket, a low-cut scarlet top, a short black skirt, with tall, almost knee-high black boots. Eve stares at her with wide-eyed disbelief. The woman breaks into a sprint, running at Eve.

"Thank God!" she says as she crashes into Eve, wrapping her arms around her in a desperate hug.

"Tell me this isn't real!" she says.

"Tell me you're real," Eve says at the exact same moment.

A long moment passes, the woman clutching Eve, while she stands motionless, her hands still in their pockets.

"Oh, thank God I found you!" the woman says "We have to get out of the streets! There are these… _things_. I don't know what's going on! Am I going insane?"

Stunned, Eve slowly gets her bearings, slowly adjusts to the moment. Taking one hand from her pocket, she places it on the woman's back, awkwardly, to comfort her.

"Shh, shh… Calm down," Eve whispers, "It's okay. You're safe now."

"I came from the hospital… this _thing_…"

"I know, I know," Eve interjects, "I've seen them, too."

The woman buries her face in Eve's chest, crying. Eve takes her other hand from its pocket, resting it on the back of the woman's head.

"What's your name?" Eve asks.

The woman doesn't answer. Crying she continues to murmur.

"What's your name, sweetheart" Eve repeats.

"Maggie," the woman replies.

"Maggie. That's a beautiful name… My name is Eve."

Maggie doesn't reply. She continues crying and clutching at Eve.

"Listen closely, Maggie," Eve begins, "I'm gonna take care of you, but I need you to pull yourself together. Can you do that for me?"

The woman seems to calm down a little, though she doesn't answer. After a few moments, she looses her grip on Eve. Backing from her slightly, she looks into Eve's eyes, hers teary and red, as she tries to determine if Eve is someone she can trust. Moving to stand next to her, Eve slides her hand down Maggie's arm, take her hand. As Maggie blurts out her experience, cathartically, Eve holds her hand, leading her back to the motel, nodding and smiling sympathetically as Maggie tells her story - waking up in the hospital, being stocked by some strange creature. Eve takes her up into her motel room, sitting her down on the bed and taking a spot next to her. She understands the shock this woman is going through and she can tell that Maggie won't be able to comprehend this reality for some time. But Eve is overjoyed, and has to try her hardest not to show it. Finally she has someone else to talk to.

"God, you're gorgeous," Eve says, holding Maggie's hand in hers.

Eve runs a hand through Maggie's hair, looking over her with sympathy and admiration.

"I'm so tired," Maggie says.

"I know, you've been through alot. Go to sleep."

Eve slides from the bed, getting to her knees. Grabbing Maggie's leg she unzips her boot, sliding it off and setting it aside. Then, taking her other leg, she removes the other boot. With a detached expression, Maggie scoots up in the bed, sliding over the blankets and covering herself, still fully clothed. Eve sits next to her, on the edge of the bed, looking down at her.

"Don't go," Maggie says, her eyelids growing heavy.

"Don't worry," Eve replies, placing a hand on her hair, "I'll still be here when you wake up."

With that, Maggie mutters a few inaudible words and drifts off into sleep. Eve rises from the bed, sitting next to the window. Taking one last glance at her new companion, she grabs her document from the night table, taking 'The Premature Burial'.

_Fearful indeed the suspicion-but more fearful the doom! It may be asserted, without hesitation, that no event is so terribly well adapted to inspire the supremeness of bodily and of mental distress, as is burial before death. The unendurable oppression of the lungs- the stifling fumes from the damp earth-the clinging to the death garments-the rigid embrace of the narrow house-the blackness of the absolute Night-the silence like a sea that overwhelms-the unseen but palpable presence of the Conqueror Worm-these things, with the thoughts of the air and grass above, with memory of dear friends who would fly to save us if but informed of our fate, and with consciousness that of this fate they can never be informed-that our hopeless portion is that of the really dead-these considerations, I say, carry into the heart, which still palpitates, a degree of appalling and intolerable horror from which the most daring imagination must recoil. We know of nothing so agonizing upon Earth- we can dream of nothing half so hideous in the realms of the nethermost Hell. […] What I have now to tell is of my own actual knowledge-of my own positive and personal experience._

_For several years I had been subject to attacks of the singular disorder which physicians have agreed to term catalepsy, in default of a more definitive title. Although both the immediate and the predisposing causes, and even the actual diagnosis, of this disease are still mysterious, its obvious and apparent character is sufficiently well understood. […] The advances of the malady are, luckily, gradual. The first manifestations, although marked, are unequivocal. The fits grow successively more and more distinctive, and endure each for a longer term than the preceding. In this lies the principal security from inhumation. The unfortunate whose first attack should be of the extreme character which is occasionally seen, would almost inevitably be consigned alive to the tomb._

_My own case differed in no important particular from those mentioned in medical books. Sometimes, without any apparent cause, I sank, little by little, into a condition of hemi-syncope, or half swoon; and, in this condition, without pain, without ability to stir, or, strictly speaking, to think, but with a dull lethargic consciousness of life and of the presence of those who surrounded my bed, I remained, until the crisis of the disease restored me, suddenly, to perfect sensation._

_[…]_

_In all that I endured there was no physical suffering but of moral distress an infinitude. My fancy grew charnel, I talked "of worms, of tombs, and epitaphs." I was lost in reveries of death, and the idea of premature burial held continual possession of my brain._

_[…]_

_From the innumerable images of gloom which thus oppressed me in dreams, I select for record but a solitary vision. Methought I was immersed in a cataleptic trance of more than usual duration and profundity. Suddenly there came an icy hand upon my forehead, and an impatient, gibbering voice whispered the word "Arise!" within my ear._

_I sat erect. The darkness was total. I could not see the figure of him who had aroused me. I could call to mind neither the period at which I had fAllan into the trance, nor the locality in which I then lay. While I remained motionless, and busied in endeavors to collect my thought, the cold hand grasped me fiercely by the wrist, shaking it petulantly, while the gibbering voice said again:_

_"Arise! did I not bid thee arise?"_

_"And who," I demanded, "art thou?"_

_"I have no name in the regions which I inhabit," replied the voice, mournfully; "I was mortal, but am fiend. I was merciless, but am pitiful. Thou dost feel that I shudder.-My teeth chatter as I speak, yet it is not with the chilliness of the night-of the night without end. But this hideousness is insufferable. How canst thou tranquilly sleep? I cannot rest for the cry of these great agonies. These sights are more than I can bear. Get thee up! Come with me into the outer Night, and let me unfold to thee the graves. Is not this a spectacle of woe?-Behold!"_

_I looked; and the unseen figure, which still grasped me by the wrist, had caused to be thrown open the graves of all mankind, and from each issued the faint phosphoric radiance of decay, so that I could see into the innermost recesses, and there view the shrouded bodies in their sad and solemn slumbers with the worm. But alas! the real sleepers were fewer, by many millions, than those who slumbered not at all; and there was a feeble struggling; and there was a general sad unrest; and from out the depths of the countless pits there came a melancholy rustling from the garments of the buried. And of those who seemed tranquilly to repose, I saw that a vast number had changed, in a greater or less degree, the rigid and uneasy position in which they had originally been entombed. And the voice again said to me as I gazed:_

_"Is it not-oh! is it not a pitiful sight?"-but, before I could find words to reply, the figure had ceased to grasp my wrist, the phosphoric lights expired, and the graves were closed with a sudden violence, while from out them arose a tumult of despairing cries, saying again: "Is it not-O, God, is it not a very pitiful sight?"_

_Phantasies such as these, presenting themselves at night, extended their terrific influence far into my waking hours. My nerves became thoroughly unstrung, and I fell a prey to perpetual horror. […] It was in vain they endeavored to reassure me by the most solemn promises. I exacted the most sacred oaths, that under no circumstances they would bury me until decomposition had so materially advanced as to render farther preservation impossible. And, even then, my mortal terrors would listen to no reason-would accept no consolation. I entered into a series of elaborate precautions. Among other things, I had the family vault so remodelled as to admit of being readily opened from within. The slightest pressure upon a long lever that extended far into the tomb would cause the iron portal to fly back. There were arrangements also for the free admission of air and light, and convenient receptacles for food and water, within immediate reach of the coffin intended for my reception. This coffin was warmly and softly padded, and was provided with a lid, fashioned upon the principle of the vault-door, with the addition of springs so contrived that the feeblest movement of the body would be sufficient to set it at liberty. Besides all this, there was suspended from the roof of the tomb, a large bell, the rope of which, it was designed, should extend through a hole in the coffin, and so be fastened to one of the hands of the corpse. But, alas? what avails the vigilance against the Destiny of man? Not even these well-contrived securities sufficed to save from the uttermost agonies of living inhumation, a wretch to these agonies foredoomed!_

Eve awakes to the violet light of her hotel room. Running her hand through her hair, she suddenly remembers her encounter from the other day. She looks over to the bed. _It wasn't just a dream… she's here_. Eve watches Maggie, sleeping in the hotel bed. She reaches over to her and grabs her shoulder, gently rousing her from her sleep. Rolling over, Maggie slowly begins to wake up. Eve rises from her chair, walking over to the bed. Blinking twice, Maggie opens her eyes, looking back at Eve.

"Was I dreaming?" she says.

Eve sits down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm afraid not."

Maggie's lips begin to quiver and her eyes water.

"What did I do?" she asks plaintively.

"I don't know," Eve replies, "but you'll find out… And I'll be here for you… If you want me to."

"C'mon, when you're ready… I have alot of things to show you."

As Maggie slowly rises from her bed, and they get ready, Eve takes her from the motel and teaches her the ropes. How to use a radio to detect monsters, how to fire a rifle, helping her piece together the clues that Silent Hill has left for her. Confronting and killing monsters proves to be extremely difficult for Maggie, who hides behind Eve for their first few confrontations, but Eve guides her through it and gets Maggie to kill her first monster.

Taking Maggie by the arm, she resolves to return to the hospital from which Maggie woke, at Maggie's fervent protest. Eve assures her that it is absolutely necessary. Guiding her friend through the misty streets, Eve takes her back to the main doors of the hospital. Maggie puts up one last protest, but Eve sternly insists, doing her best to reassure her that, if anything should happen, Eve will protect her. Eve raises her rifle as proof, Maggie looking down at it, and tells her that anything that would threaten her would be quickly killed.

They push open the doorway, into the main hall. Turning left they come to the doors into the ER. Eve pushes open the doors, stepping into the next room, then stops, giving their eyes time to adjust. The room is dark, but not entirely devoid of light. The glow of orange streetlights filters in through the windows. A greenish glow, emanates from all of the heart monitors, beeping incessantly. Eve's radio begins to crackle, then grow into a deep, bassy growl. Maggie knows what this means.

"Let's go," she says, grabbing Eve's arm.

"No," Eve replies, "We'll be fine."

Eve starts forward, adjusting the rifle in her arms.. Maggie follows directly behind her, cautiously. They hear the faint sounds of footsteps further away. As they move forward, a large figure becomes visible down their aisle. Maggie grabs Eve's arm, but she wrenches it loose, afraid it may impede her aim. Slowly nearing it, it walks into the light. It is a monster, similar in colour to the monsters Eve had seen. Its skin is grey. The creature looks like a large, muscular man, but with a phallic head, like a snake extending forward from its shoulders. The face of this creature is devoid of any features, only a slit for a mouth and two bumps where the eyes presumably would be.

"Is this what you saw?" Eve whispers.

"Kill it, Eve," Maggie replies desperately.

Maggie staying back, Eve takes a few steps forward, looking through the sights of her rifle. The monster catches sight of Eve, and slowly begins to walk towards her. Pulling back the hammer, Eve pulls the trigger. It grazes the left side of the phallic monster's face. It throws it head back, opening its mouth and letting out a cry. With its open mouth, it displays two rows of small pointed teeth, like those of the toddlers. The monster collects itself and starts to run at Eve. Pulling back the hammer, Eve fires again, hitting the monster through its jaw. The bullet explodes out the back of its head, the forward momentum sends the creature plowing into Eve, knocking her to the ground and landing heavily on top of her. Maggie screams. The monster is not yet dead, it twists its head to bite Eve. She drops her rifle, grabbing the creature's jaws with both hands she holds them shut.

"Get it off of me!" Eve shouts to Maggie, who runs over and, with a grunt, pushes the creature off Eve, onto its back. Eve scrambles out from under its mass and climbs on top of the creature. Grabbing her rifle, she begins to viciously bash in its phallic head with the butt of her rifle. After five or six blows, the head is crushed into a pulpy, bloody, rubbery mass. Its convulsions cease and the monster goes limp. Eve leans on her rifle, panting. She places a hand on her head, which had hit the ground when the creature tackled her. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Eve collects herself.

"Help me up," Eve instructs Maggie flatly, who dutifully complies.

Dizzily, Eve rises to her feet. Staggering slightly.

"Piece of cake," she says, somewhat sarcastically.

As the crackle of Eve's radio dies away, they continue on to the reception area of the hospital. Reaching the desk, with its big wooden crucifix hanging overhead, Eve slides over the counter, followed by Maggie. Eve looks around, seeing a crowbar set up against the counter.

"Here," Eve says, handing the weapon to Maggie.

Eve and Maggie scour the desktop. Its papers, skewed about, and all of the drawers. Opening a drawer, Maggie pulls out a small flashlight, clicking it on and off, then sliding it in her pocket. Once they've checked every drawer, Maggie turns to Eve.

"Okay," Eve starts, biting her lip briefly, "See those cabinets? Find your file, it should be organised alphabetically, by last name."

Maggie steps to the cabinets, finding the cabinet labeled 'C'. Opening it, she runs her fingers over the tops, stopping when she sees her name. Maggie pulls out a folder.

"Got it," she says, placing the folder down on the desktop and opening it.

Eve reads the name on the folder.

"_Margaret_?" she says with a grin.

"Shut up."

Bent over the files, Maggie and Eve skim over them. Some of the same things Eve found in her file are also in Maggie's: a map, poems. But the subject matter is entirely different. Maggie's file seem to revolve around sexual subject matter: rape, prostitution, infidelity. Flipping to the end they find a leaflet on addiction. Eve closes the folder and hands it to Maggie.

"Come on, you'll need to take this back to the motel and read it on your own time," Eve says.

Eve and Maggie make their way from the hospital, and Maggie insists on "just taking a casual walk" around. Eve has no interest in her proposal, but goes along with it if only for Maggie's sake. So they wander around Silent Hill casually. Eve notices Maggie's mood becoming progressively more optimistic, which, at first, she's happy to see, but as time progresses it becomes apparent that Maggie is simply shutting out the reality of the world around her. Looking at Eve she speaks to her about her clothes or her hair, as though they were back in the world from which they came. She takes playful jabs at Eve's outfit, or compliments her physique. As they walk on from block to block, Eve becomes more concerned.

Maggie suddenly stops in her tracks, grabbing Eve's arm lightly. She stops as well, glancing over at Maggie, then in the direction she's looking. _A department store?_ Maggie looks over at Eve with a smile.

"Come on, let's go in!" she exclaims, waving her over with an enthusiastic motion.

Maggie skips over to the front door of the store, but the front door is chained shut with a heavy padlock.

"Damn it!" Maggie shouts, grabbing the lock and slamming it against the door.

"Let's go 'round back," Eve suggests.

They start around the corner, Maggie jogging ahead while Eve follows, dragging her feet. As Eve rounds the corner, she sees her companion racing ahead as she disappears into the fog. Eve grins to herself, then hurries her pace to catch up, Maggie's heels clicking on the asphalt in the distance. Placing her hand on her rifle, Eve looks off into the distance cautiously, though her radio would warn if any creatures were near. She rounds the next corner, to the back of the department store, to see Maggie frowning, standing by the back door.

"It's locked, too," she moans, as Eve steps up to the door.

Eve analyses the door for a moment. She tries to turn the knob. Sighing, Eve raises her hand, balling it in a fist, and knocks on the door with the side of her hand. _Seems pretty fragile._ Eve reaches over to Maggie, grabbing the crowbar from her hand. She jams the end of the crowbar between the door and its frame, then, grabbing its handle, she leans back, pulling on the crowbar with all her weight.

"Ughhhh!"

The door groans, as they hear the wood splinter and crack. Eve turns slightly, jamming her feet against the door. She gives one more pull and there is a loud crack and the door flies open.

"Oh, yay!" Maggie squeals excitedly. Eve winks at her.

"Door's a piece of shit," she adds.

Handing Maggie back her crowbar, they step inside. The room is totally black so Maggie flicks on her flashlight, shining it around the room. They stand in a stockroom at the back of the store. Rows of large, metal, industrial shelves stand across the room, stacked with boxes. Maggie leads, shining the light from right to left as she goes. Although Eve's radio would warn them of any approaching danger, the women proceed cautiously. Emerging from between the shelves, Maggie finds the door. Walking to it she slowly opens it into the next room, then gestures for her partner to follow. Maggie steps into the next room, which is the main store. Eve emerges from the doorway, standing shoulder to shoulder with Maggie.

"So… what exactly do you want to do here?" Eve asks.

"Shop, dummy!"

Eve gives Maggie a playful shove as Maggie races through the store. Walking forward, Eve runs her hands over some clothing. She watches Maggie, darting from rack to rack, excitedly. The department store seems as though it has been vacant for a long time. Eve takes a seat on a bench in the women's shoe department. Slumping over, she drops her chin in her hand, leaning her elbow on her knee. _I don't know if Maggie gets it… She seems to be in denial about where she is. I worry about her. Hopefully she can adjust._ Maggie runs up behind her, slapping her playfully on the shoulder.

"We need to do something about those shoes," Maggie says.

"My _shoes_?" Eve asks quizzically, looking down at her chucks, "What's wrong with my shoes?"

"They're grungey," Maggie states, "Not fitting for a glamourous woman."

"_Glamourous_?"

Maggie sets forward, her finger pressed to her chin. She walks around, assessing the shoes. _She needs to get her shit together… She's gonna get herself killed._ Maggie stops, picking up a pair of red high heels.

"How 'bout these?" Maggie asks.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" Eve replies with a laugh. Maggie sets them down.

"Hm…"

Glancing over the shoe racks, Maggie stops again. She grabs a pair of black boots, flat-heeled and almost knee-high.

"What about these ones," she asks, "They're kinda like mine."

"Let's try 'em" Eve asks with a dispassionate smile.

Eve pulls off her chucks, tossing them aside, as Maggie hands over the boots. Loosening the laces which chris-cross up the front of the boot, Eve slides her right foot in. Then, tightening and tying the laces, she wiggles her foot around. Taking the other boot, she repeats the process. Eve rises from the bench, taking a few steps and rotating her ankles to get a feel for them.

"Looks like we got a fit," Eve says with a smile.

"Eeh!" Maggie squeals, clapping her hands together.

Eve and Maggie depart from the store, heading out into the foggy streets. Making their way back to the motel, Eve continues to worry about her new friend. Eve watches her, pacing, skipping from block to block, totally shutting out her environment, speaking to Eve as if they were in a friendlier world. _She has no chance of making it like this. She's in total denial._ Along the way, Eve grabs Maggie's hand. She feels the need to protect her. A sort of maternal drive. Or, maybe, a desire for redemption. A desire to fix the past, through good work in the present. Before too long, the women arrive back at the motel, and are washed in the violet mist. Heading up the stairs, they return to their room, removing their boots and jackets. Eve guides Maggie over to the bed. Setting her down, Eve stands over her and crosses her arms. Maggie looks up at her with a smile.

"We need to talk," Eve starts.

"'Bout what?" Maggie replies, the smile disappearing from her face.

"I don't think you realise how serious this situation is."

"How? Of course I do."

"I see you smiling… laughing."

"I can't smile?"

"Look around you, Maggie!"

Eve turns from her. Walking to the window she pauses, then turns back to Maggie.

"Do you believe in Hell?" Eve asks.

"_What_?"

"Do you believe in Hell?"

There is a long pause.

"Maybe…" Maggie replies. Eve looks back at her sternly, staring deep into her eyes.

"I think that's where we are."

Maggie's eyes begin to water and her expression grows pale. She seems to withdraw within herself. Maggie stares down at her feet, her lips trembling. She raises her head abruptly and tries to speak, but fails to get anything out. She opens her mouth once more, letting out a faint sound, but no words. Finally, she makes one last attempt.

"What did I do to deserve this?" She blurts out breathlessly, breaking into tears.

"I don't know," Eve replies flatly, "But we have each other."

"I can't take this!"

"Yes you can!"

"No, I can't! I can't."

A shot of fear runs through Eve's body as she realises this woman she's adopted has suddenly snapped from a state of denial to a state of total despair.

"You _can_ do this, Maggie! I've been in this world for months, and I'm still standing."

Maggie looks up at her with an expression of blind panic.

"_Months_?" she asks with horror. "You've been here for _months!_"

"No, no, no!" Eve starts taking a step towards her, realising she's only made the situation worse. "It's not that bad!"

"_Not that bad_?" Maggie screams back hysterically, "Are you fucking crazy?"

Maggie's body begins to tremble violently.

"This is a fucking nightmare!"

"No, no, no!" Eve repeats desperately. She grabs Maggie tightly, sitting by her side, "Don't leave me!"

"What am I going to do?" Maggie says softly, her expression blank and pale.

Eve places her hand softly on Maggie's cheek, turning her face to Eve's. Leaning forward, Eve kisses her firmly, holding her close for a long moment. Then Eve draws back, releasing Maggie's lips from hers. They look back at each other.

"We're going to get through this together, Mags."

"Mags," she says with a soft, half-hearted laugh, "that's cute."

Smiling warmly, Eve grabs Maggie's shirt, pulling it over her head. Taking care of herself, Maggie starts to unzip her skirt as they get undressed for bed. Throwing their clothes on the floor next to the bed, they pull back the covers, sliding inside. Pulling the blankets over them, Eve looks over at Maggie, who lies on her side facing away from her. Eve slides over to her, cradling her, and putting one arm around her waist.

"We're going to get through this together, Mags" she whispers in her ear. Before they go to sleep.

Eve awakes to darkness. Her body feels incredibly stiff as she attempts to stretch out, but finds that her shoulders are presse up against a solid surface. Raising her hands, she feels soft padded fabric above her. She pushes against it. _It won't open._ Eve feels around her enclosure to realise she's boxed in on all sides. Eve begins to panic. _I've been buried alive! _Desperately, she presses her hands against the soft surface above her pushing on it, tearing the fabric.

"Help!" Eve screams, banging on the lid.

She tears away the fabric, until she feels wood, and begins to pound on it with her fists.

"Help me!" Eve screams.

Striking the wood one more time, the coffin lid flies open, as if suddenly weightless. Eve shoots up into a seated position, gasping for air. Eve finds herself in a coffin, position in the middle of an aisle in a large church. From all appearances, a Catholic church. Rows of wooden pews surround her, and the walls are adorned with stained-glass windows, depicting a series of Catholic saints. Eve steps out from her coffin. She wears a long white dress, and on it, a red rose - her corsage. Her hair is done up in a bun, with her bangs neatly parted. Eve looks to the altar and jumps, seeing a cloaked figure, its face covered, standing a few yards ahead of her, facing in her direction.

"Eve," the cloaked figure calls.

"Maggie?"

"No."

The cloaked figure pulls back her hood. Then drops her robe at her feet. Eve recognises that bloated, rotting body. _Mom._ One of her breasts is torn and deflated from where Eve had shot her.

"Leave me alone!" Eve cries.

"Never, slut!" her mother replies.

She steps towards Eve, and suddenly, Eve's dead baby appears in her mother's arms.

"Do you think anything will change?" her mother asks mockingly, "Now that you made yourself a friend? Have you told her what you've done? Do you think she will accept you, do you think anyone will accept a baby killer?"

Eve staggers back.

"She's here, too. She must've done something as bad as I did."

"Nobody could do something as bad as what you have done, baby killer."

Just then, Eve's baby springs to life and begins crying, although he is rotten and bloated as before.

"Sh, shhh…" Eve's mother says, rocking the baby gently. "Let me ask you a question… Who was the father of your baby, whore?"

"I… I don't remember," Eve replies.

"Yes you do, whore… You just refuse to remember."

Eve awakes to the violet light of her motel room. She rolls over onto her back and runs her fingers through her hair. She spends a few minutes, reflecting on her dream, as though there was any distinction between asleep and awake where she was. Suddenly, Eve looks to her left, noticing that Maggie is no longer there. Her impression is still in the mattress where she slept, but the woman is not.

"Maggie?" Eve says, hoping she may be in the bathroom, but there is no reply.

Eve throws back her blankets. Rising from the bed in her black underwear, Eve walks to the door. Opening it, she peers outside.

"Maggie?" Eve calls out, "Maggie?"

But there is no reply.

Eve gets dressed. Moving to the bathroom, she splashes cold water on her face. Then, taking a hand towel, dries herself, and heads to the door. She steps outside into the parking lot, and crosses through it.

"Maggie?" Eve calls out in vain. _She knows where to find me… I'm sure we will meet back here after she finishes whatever it is she's doing._

Eve crosses the street, stepping onto the sidewalk. She continues southward, making her way to the church she had seen in her dream. She remembers seeing the church in her childhood, when she had visited Silent Hill with her parents, but as far as she can remember, she's never been inside. Eve shudders. The memory of her encounter with her mother springs into her mind. Of her bloated, rotting, re-animated corpse. And she recalls the vision of her baby. The one she had killed. She was eighteen when she made that decision, and it seemed as though Eve was doomed for eternity for making that selfish decision. A deep shame oppresses her. She is overcome with self-hatred. But, in spite of that, Eve carries on. Her boots tapping rhythmically as she walks, the sound reverberating in the empty street.

Eve steps from the curb, to the street. The fog is heavy today, and rolls across the street, around Eve's feet in heavy waves. There is a general mist to the atmosphere. Pacing hurriedly, she continues onward to the church. Still, as before, she looks around herself, calling out periodically. She hopes she may find Dan or Maggie after all. But as she treks across the lonely town of Silent Hill she sees no sign of them. Periodically, Eve passes a mother or a toddler, haunting manifestations of her past, but evades them. She feels the cold rifle in her hand, it gives her a sense of security. She is sure of her aim, and - as a result - sure of her security. But her safety is not her concern. Eve is most concerned about her isolation. What she wants most right now is companionship, since she has no hope of escaping this town.

As Eve nears her destination, she is suddenly distracted. Over the top of a nearby building, the fog is stained with a red and green glow. She decides to investigate, and, turning to her left, heads around a corner and down the street until she is directly across from it. The glow is emanating from the opposite side of the building. She rounds the next corner going up the street. A toddler comes into view, but Eve ignores it, continuing along her course. Reaching the next corner, she hooks a right and finds herself in a parking lot, standing directly below the neon sign. _Sunderland Pub_. Eve walks up to its glass door, looking to see if anyone is inside. It's empty. The sign on the door says "Open". Eve pushes on the door, hearing the chime of an overhead bell. As she closes the door, she turns the sign around to read "Closed". A significant amount of light filters in from the street: green, red, and orange. But the room is still fairly dark.

"Hello?" Eve calls out… No answer.

She walks through the bar past its first table, finding a pack of cigarettes lying on the table, and a bowl filled with matchbooks, each with the Sunderland Pub logo. Eve grabs the cigarettes. Drawing one from the box, she places it between her lips, then puts the cigarettes in her pocket. Eve grabs one of the matchbooks, taking from it a single match. Striking it, she lights her cigarette, the puts the matchbook in her pocket. Eve takes a drag from her cigarette, then grabbing it between her fingers, Eve pulls it out. Exhaling as she wonders around the pub, Eve looks around casually. Walking around the bar, Eve comes across the rows of bottle, running her fingers over them as she passes. Her hand stops on a bottle of rum. Eve picks it up and shakes it. _Almost full._

Eve grabs it, her cigarette in her other hand, and walks over to a booth, sliding across its bench. Setting the bottle down, Eve puts her cigarette in the ashtray. Eve retrieve 'The Premature Burial' finding the place she had left off. Eve smooths out the documents. Grabbing her bottle of rum, Eve opens it, smells it, and then takes a swig. Her mouth twists slightly from the bite, but she quickly takes a second gulp. Retrieving her cigarette, Eve takes another drag. Then she begins to read her documents.

_There arrived an epoch-as often before there had arrived-in which I found myself emerging from total unconsciousness into the first feeble and indefinite sense of existence. Slowly-with a tortoise gradation-approached the faint gray dawn of the psychal day. A torpid uneasiness. An apathetic endurance of dull pain. No care- no hope-no effort. Then, after a long interval, a ringing in the ears; then, after a lapse still longer, a prickling or tingling sensation in the extremities; then a seemingly eternal period of pleasurable quiescence, during which the awakening feelings are struggling into thought; then a brief re-sinking into non-entity; then a sudden recovery. At length the slight quivering of an eyelid, and immediately thereupon, an electric shock of a terror, deadly and indefinite, which sends the blood in torrents from the temples to the heart. And now the first positive effort to think. And now the first endeavor to remember. […] I am cognizant of my state. I feel that I am not awaking from ordinary sleep. I recollect that I have been subject to catalepsy. And now, at last, as if by the rush of an ocean, my shuddering spirit is overwhelmed by the one grim Danger-by the one spectral and ever-prevalent idea._

_For some minutes after this fancy possessed me, I remained without motion. And why? I could not summon courage to move. I dared not make the effort which was to satisfy me of my fate-and yet there was something at my heart which whispered me it was sure. Despair- such as no other species of wretchedness ever calls into being- despair alone urged me, after long irresolution, to uplift the heavy lids of my eyes. I uplifted them. It was dark-all dark. I knew that the fit was over. I knew that the crisis of my disorder had long passed. I knew that I had now fully recovered the use of my visual faculties-and yet it was dark-all dark-the intense and utter raylessness of the Night that endureth for evermore._

_I endeavored to shriek-, and my lips and my parched tongue moved convulsively together in the attempt-but no voice issued from the cavernous lungs, which oppressed as if by the weight of some incumbent mountain, gasped and palpitated, with the heart, at every elaborate and struggling inspiration._

_[…] So far, I had not ventured to stir any of my limbs-but now I violently threw up my arms, which had been lying at length, with the wrists crossed. They struck a solid wooden substance, which extended above my person at an elevation of not more than six inches from my face. I could no longer doubt that I reposed within a coffin at last._

_And now, amid all my infinite miseries, came sweetly the cherub Hope-for I thought of my precautions. I writhed, and made spasmodic exertions to force open the lid: it would not move. I felt my wrists for the bell-rope: it was not to be found. […] The conclusion was irresistible. I was not within the vault. I had fAllan into a trance while absent from home-while among strangers-when, or how, I could not remember-and it was they who had buried me as a dog-nailed up in some common coffin-and thrust deep, deep, and for ever, into some ordinary and nameless grave._

_As this awful conviction forced itself, thus, into the innermost chambers of my soul, I once again struggled to cry aloud. And in this second endeavor I succeeded. A long, wild, and continuous shriek, or yell of agony, resounded through the realms of the subterranean Night._

_"Hillo! hillo, there!" said a gruff voice, in reply._

_"What the devil's the matter now!" said a second._

_"Get out o' that!" said a third._

_"What do you mean by yowling in that ere kind of style, like a cattymount?" said a fourth; and hereupon I was seized and shaken without ceremony, for several minutes, by a junto of very rough-looking individuals. They did not arouse me from my slumber-for I was wide awake when I screamed-but they restored me to the full possession of my memory._

_[…]_

_The tortures endured, however, were indubitably quite equal for the time, to those of actual sepulture. They were fearfully-they were inconceivably hideous; but out of Evil proceeded Good; for their very excess wrought in my spirit an inevitable revulsion. My soul acquired tone-acquired temper. I went abroad. I took vigorous exercise. I breathed the free air of Heaven. I thought upon other subjects than Death. I discarded my medical books. "Buchan" I burned. I read no "Night Thoughts"-no fustian about churchyards-no bugaboo tales-such as this. In short, I became a new man, and lived a man's life. From that memorable night, I dismissed forever my charnel apprehensions, and with them vanished the cataleptic disorder, of which, perhaps, they had been less the consequence than the cause._

_There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad Humanity may assume the semblance of a Hell-but the imagination of man is no Carathis, to explore with impunity its every cavern. Alas! the grim legion of sepulchral terrors cannot be regarded as altogether fanciful-but, like the Demons in whose company Afrasiab made his voyage down the Oxus, they must sleep, or they will devour us-they must be suffered to slumber, or we perish._

_THE END_

Eve takes a final gulp from her bottle of rum, setting the empty bottle down. Eve groans, resting back on the padded pub bench.

"Finally done that shit."

Taking a deep breath, Eve rises from the booth, staggering drunkenly out into the aisle. She makes her way out to the door and pulls it open, stepping into the red and green mist of the pub's parking lot. As she continues onward, towards the church, Eve's sees a figure standing in the street. Swaying as she walks, Eve nears the figure.

"Mags?" she asks.

The figure turns around when it hears Eve call, and comes into view. He wears a black business suit, with a white dress shirt and black tie. The man's face is thin and angular, with a slightly pointed chin. His short black hair is slicked to one side. He watches Eve cautiously as she nears him. Wobbling slightly, Eve steps into the street until she is within arms length of the man. He grips a baseball bat tightly as Eve introduces herself.

"Eve," she says, extending her hand to the man.

He looks back at her with scrutinising eyes. Pale blue, and a little too close together, the man has an untrusting, insecure, and angry expression - understandable in Silent Hill.

"What the _fuck_ is going on here?" he says, ignoring Eve's introduction. He grips a baseball bat anxiously in his right hand, his knuckles turning white.

"I couldn't tell you," Eve replies, 'All I can tell you is that you need to find a gun. And you need to get your files from the library, and simply follow what they tell you."

"Where did you get that gun."

"From the gun store, but I'm afraid that the place has been totally wiped out… I'm looking for a woman, brunette, beautiful woman…"

He looks at Eve's rifle for a moment, then shakes his head.

"Can't help you."

Eve turns her back to the man, pointing Northward.

"If you want to double-check, the gun store is a little Northeast, about six or seven blocks."

"That won't be necessary," he says.

Eve feels a sharp pain in the back of her head. Falling to the ground, her vision goes black.


	14. Chapter 14: Eve's Confession

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XIV:This is the LAST CHAPTER OF PART 2. It's a short chapter, wrapping up Eve's story. I won't say too much about the chapter, just strap in and enjoy!**

**Note on Part 3: Part 3 will probably be shorter than the first two parts (I'd estimate 4-7 chapters). It will be roughly evenly split between Eve and Adam, but I'll definitely start with Adam. Before I start writing it, I'm going to re-read the whole story and make sure I tie up all the loose ends.**

**Plea for Support: It seems like traffic has been very low this month, but all the chapters I have posted this month have gone by relatively unnoticed. Whenever people support this FanFic it REALLY HELPS MOTIVATE ME so if you're out there and you're reading, please chime in and let me know you're interested. If you've been reading and you don't have an account, SIGN UP and REVIEW, FOLLOW, and FAVOURITE. If you've posted reviews, and there are some chapters you haven't posted for some, PLEASE GO BACK AND REVIEW... Reviews are a search feature, so more people will see this if more reviews are posted. If you go on SILENT HILL FORUMS, POST A LINK TO THIS FANFIC (if you think it's worthy of recommendation.**

**Future Plans: After I'm done with Silent Hill, I'm planning to start a Resident Evil Fanfic. It will focus on Leon, Helena, and Ada... But there may also be appearances by Jill, Chris, and a few other RE favourites. In any case, that's off in the distance right now...**

**As always: Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART and not Adult Fanfiction as previously stated. Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XIV.**

Eve makes another tally on her sheet, It is now seventy-nine in total. She hasn't seen Maggie in six days. The violet light fills her hotel room. Eve grabs the map, looking over it. She has circled a church in the Southeastern section of Silent Hill. The church she had intended to go to when she met that man. She remembers waking up on the ground, in the middle of the street, her head throbbing. The man had hit her over the head with a baseball bat, and, when she awoke, she found her rifle missing. Presumably, he knocked her out so that he could steal her rifle and, in so doing, could have got her killed, if only some monsters had passed her by while she was unconscious in the street. It's a minor miracle of sorts, but Eve still has a mystery to solve. Where had Maggie gone? And why hasn't she heard from her in days.

_The church, the only place I have left to check. The only lead I have left._ Eve folds up the map again. Rising lethargically from her chair, she walks to the door. She grabs the jacket, sliding the map in her pocket. She puts the jacket on, then grabs her long boots from next to the door. She walks over to the bed and sits down. Eve grabs her first boot and slides it on, tightening the laces. Then, grabbing the other boot, she puts it on and ties it. Eve pushes herself off the bed. Walking to the door, she opens it, stepping outside. It is especially foggy today. Eve zips up her army jacket and walks across the platform to the stairs, walking down them slowly. Her boots make a heavy clang as they come into contact with the metal stairs. Her boots meet asphalt, and Eve cuts across the parking lot heading South.

Eve carries a club, her rifle now gone; and, clipped on her belt, her radio. She walks casually, not expecting to find anything significant on her journey; but periodically she calls out for her missing friend. Eve pushes back her creeping suspicions - that Maggie may be dead. That one of those monsters may have got her. She didn't want to say anything, but Eve noticed that the monsters which had been pursuing Maggie seemed so much stronger than the one's Eve had to deal with. _Maybe I should have given her my rifle… Damn it, Eve, your selfishness has killed another innocent person. My mom was right. I'm a useless slut._ Eve bites her lip as she falls deep into introspection. Block after block go by, and periodically Eve glances around, hoping she may see Maggie. Every once in awhile she stops and squints at some figure in the fog, only to find out that it's a monster or nothing at all - a stack of boards leaning up against a wall, or a group of trash cans.

Carelessly, she walks onward. When a monster comes into view, Eve simply ignores it, jogging around it. Every once in a while, she breaks into a run, so as to get to her destination quicker. Eve's mom's words come into her mind again and again. How she behaved in such an unladylike manner, how flirtatious she was, how she used her body as a tool to get attention from men. And she thinks of her mother's question: who was the father of the baby she had killed? Eve couldn't remember, and it could have been many men, she had lived such a promiscuous lifestyle.

Looking up, Eve sees the red and green light of the pub in the fog. She is close to her destination. Eve passes the pub, continuing on her Southward trek. Another two blocks pass, and Eve arrives at the church. She walks down the street until she is directly in front of the main doors of the building. She looks up at it with a detached, analytical gaze. It is a large Catholic church, with three double doors at its entrance. It's a tall brick building with two towers on either side, pyramidal structures top each tower and the central structure comes to a point in the centre. On the front wall, in the centre above the door a large, circular stained glass window, depicting St. Cecilia holding a violin. Over the doors, black iron letters are mounted, reading: The Church Of St. Cecilia.

Eve pulls open the doors and steps inside, letting the heavy fog roll inside. The church has an old, acrid smell to it, one which immediately puts Eve on guard. She had always hated churches. But she cannot help but admire the archaic beauty of this dusty old church. Its high vaulted roof towers over her, and lining the walls to her right and left, there are a series of stained-glass windows, depicting a variety of Catholic saints. On the far wall, facing Eve, a huge wooden crucifix hangs, with Christ staring down at her with a mournful expression. She paces up the aisle, dragging her feet over the frayed, purple carpeting. She feels oppressed by this massive church. All of the saints, and Christ himself, seem to watch her judgementally. Sighing, and looking around her nervously, she walks to the front platform, where the altar stands.

Eve steps up on the riser. She turns on its edge and looks over the pews momentarily. Complete desolation. Spinning around she glances about the stage. Running her fingers through her hair, guiding her bangs from her face, Eve walks to the alter. Sitting on it, a large, black, leather-bound book. Inscribe on its cover, in shiny golden lettering, its title: _The Holy Bible._ Eve laughs ironically, then flips the book open carelessly. Her eyes focus in. _The book is hollowed out._ Sitting in the middle of the hollow, Eve sees a large, wrought-iron key, designed in an old gothic fashion. She grabs it, looking over it. _The key to the cemetery._ She slides it into her pocket.

Finding what she was meant to find, Eve decides to leave. She walks from the platform, hopping down onto the carpet and starts to walk down the aisle, but suddenly changes her mind and throws herself down into the pews. She looks up at the image of Christ with a resentful expression. Eve pulls out the key, holding it in the air.

"Is this what I was supposed to come her for?" Eve shouts at Christ.

She curses under her breath and shakes her head, sliding the key back in her pocket.

"Is this just going to go on forever?" she asks, as though Christ may answer her. "I've hand enough of this shit! I can't take it anymore! How many more hoops do I have to jump through? And what's after this? It'll be something else! There'll be another clue, another task, going on and on forever! Well, I can't do this anymore… I'll go back to the motel and… I'll go back and cut my fucking wrists… Is that what you want? Will that make you happy? Why did you give me Dan? And Maggie? Just to take them away?"

Eve reaches into her inside pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. As she does so, a book of matches falls from her pocket, into the pews. She unfolds the paper. It is the print of Adam and Eve, which she had found in the hospital. She holds the picture up, showing it to Christ.

"What does all this shit mean? Are you just fucking with my head? Why do this? This is fucking torture! This is some sick joke… The whole point of this is to give me false hope, to make me feel like there is some riddle I need to solve and I can go back to my life…"

Eve folds the picture up and puts it back in her pocket. Suddenly she drops her face into her hands and begins to cry. Sliding from the pew, she drops to her knees. Eve clasps her hands together in prayer, and looks up at Christ desperately.

"Please! Please let me go home! Let me leave this place…" Eve cries, tears running down her face, "I'm sorry! I know I don't deserve it! I killed my baby… I'm sorry, God! You have to believe me… I'm so sorry! Please God, if you exist… Please just set me free…"

Eve falls to her side, curling into a ball. She sobs uncontrollably. Minutes pass and Eve remains there, her body shaking. But she knows it's futile. Even in her most desperate hour, she does not believe in God. She cannot believe in God. So she lies there and cries to no avail, and eventually runs out of energy to even cry. She just lies on the floor. Motionless and hopeless. And Eve knows she will not kill herself. Since she has woken in Silent Hill, she's known, on some level, that suicide will never be an option. If she is doomed to wonder this town for eternity, she will do so; but she will never kill herself.

After several hours, Eve pulls herself from the floor. With her head down, her spirit broken, she walks from the church and out into the foggy streets. Drifting back northward, Eve realises she has no strength to run or to fight. If any monster should cross her path, it will kill her, and Eve would welcome it.

Eve stops when she sees a red and green glow permeate the fog around her feet. She looks up. _The Sunderland Pub._ Eve walks tiredly to its doors. The signs is as she had left it, reading "Closed". She opens the door, hearing the bell chime, and walks inside. She drags her body to the bar, walking around it with weak legs as though she carried some heavy burden on her back, and sits on a stool. Eve grabs a bottle of whiskey from a rack and sets it down on the counter. Then, grabbing a shot glass she finds within reach, she pours herself a drink. An hour passes, maybe more. Eve pours herself shot after shot. Suddenly, the pervasive silence is broken. Eve here's the chime of the bell as someone opens the door.

"Stay where you are," Eve says.

"Okay," the man replies, the bell ringing as the door closes behind him.

"You looking for something?" Eve asks him, in a detached, careless tone.

Looking up for a moment, she sees the man. He's a man of striking good looks. A square jaw and chiseled features. Short, light-brown hair, parted neatly on one side. Pale green eyes. His face clean-shaven. He wears a black leather jacket with a pair of white, horizontal stripes around the bicep, a pair of faded jeans, and black, scuffed work boots. He carries a shoulder bag.

"I found… a book of matches - at the church - with the name of this pub on it," he places a hand in his bag, then pulls it out with nothing in it. He has an expression on his face as though he had forgot something. The man clears his throat, "Uh, I'm just following, the, uh, the _leads_."

"I left them there."

"Then you were at the church… Maybe we're supposed to cross paths."

"Maybe." Eve replies flatly.

Eve takes another shot, then places the glass down on the counter. She raises the bottle and pours another drink. The man takes a few steps closer to the bar.

"My name is Adam."

The woman finishes pouring her drink, then freezes momentarily, as though something has struck her interest. She raises her head to look at him.

"_Adam?"_ she repeats.

"Yes."

Eve lets out a slight, cynical laugh. She lowers her head again, and plays with her shot glass, turning it between her thumb and forefinger. Adam takes a few steps closer, tilting his head quizzically, sensing that his name has some significance for her.

"May I ask, what's _your_ name?"

Eve turns the shot glass in her hand a few times, then, raising it, she throws her head back and drinks it.

"Eve," she replies.


	15. Chapter 15: Adam & Eve's Prologue

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XV: Chapter 15 is the first chapter of Part 3. It serves as sort of a re-cap chapter, detailing the first conversation between Adam and Eve. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DeviantArt (hopefully under the same name). Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**PART THREE**

**XV.**

Adam, steps forward, walking up to the bar. He leans up against the counter, looking over Eve, who doesn't reciprocate, but looks down at her glass with a disconnected stare. She appears to him as some damned spirit, cloaked in shadow, a faint green light cast across her face. Everything in Eve's mannerisms, her guilt-stricken, hopeless expression, her weak, feeble posture, convey an image of desolation and self-hatred. In this setting, in this mood, she barely resembles a human being.

"Eve?" he says, "I can't imagine that's a coincidence."

"There are no coincidences here."

Eve reaches under the bar, grabbing her army jacket. Pulling a folded piece of paper from its pocket, she replaces it. Eve throws the folded sheet onto the counter. Adam picks it up, unfolding it. It is the picture of Adam and Eve. Adam looks up at Eve.

"Where did you find this?"

"At the hospital," Eve replies flatly.

Adam analyses the picture momentarily, a still silence falls over the couple.

"So, what brought you here?" Eve asks.

"Well… At the moment, I'm looking for somebody. A blond girl, fifteen or sixteen years old - name's Elizabeth."

"Afraid I can't help you," Eve replies, after a pause she adds, "I'm looking for a couple people myself."

"Who?"

"His name's Dan. Big guy. Moustache."

"Can't say I've seen anybody fitting that description."

"And a woman, named Maggie -"

"Maggie?" Adam interjects.

"Yeah," Eve replies, suddenly making eye contact with Adam, "Have you seen her?"

"Yes, the first day I got here."

"How long ago was that?"

"My best guess would be a week."

Eve straightens herself up, she looks searchingly at Adam.

"That doesn't do me any good… I saw her around the same time."

Eve loses interest once more, and looks back down at her glass. They are both wholly aware that that this meeting is far from a coincidence, that this was another puzzle, an arrangement of Silent Hill's making. Adam tries to think of something to say, of the appropriate question to ask, but draws a blank. Eve, on the other hand, doesn't particularly care to play the game at this moment, but sensing Adam's determination, feels the obligation to move the conversation forward somehow.

"So, this town arranged for us to meet," Eve says, smiling at Adam half-heartedly, "We might as well get to know each other."

Eve rises from her stool. Grabbing the over-sized army jacket, she slides it on. Grabbing two small glasses in one hand, and a bottle of rum off the rack with her other, she walks around the bar, wobbling drunkenly. She leads Adam over to a booth by the window, and, dropping herself onto the padded bench, slides over to the window. Adam, follows, sliding across the bench until they are face to face. Eve fills the glasses with rum, sliding one over to Adam. He raises the glass and takes a drink, making a bitter expression, briefly. Putting her elbow up on the table, Eve leans her head on one arm. Adam looks over this disconsolate woman. Her pale blue eyes meet his striking green eyes.

"So… Adam," she starts, looking across at him, the red and green light coming in through the window casting shadows across their faces, "what's your story?"

Adam takes another drink.

"Well… I woke up in the hospital, about a week ago. I can't remember how I got here, or anything about myself for that matter. When I left the hospital, I wandered around Silent Hill. Eventually I came to the motel, where I met Maggie… She told me to head back to the hospital, where I found a file - with my name on it. From there, I went to the high school, where I met Elizabeth. She and I made our way through the school, where I had my first memories… of my wife -"

"- your _wife_?" Eve interjects.

"Yeah… Her name was May… She was an artist, but she killed herself."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Eve says sympathetically.

"I'm not sure why, but I feel like I'm responsible for her death," Adam looks out the window, losing himself in thought momentarily, "Anyways, after we left the school, Elizabeth and I went back to the motel…"

Adam falls silent and takes another drink, Eve notices a change in his expression.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Nothing," Adam replies. _Was it just a dream? _"… When I awoke, Elizabeth was gone. I looked for her awhile, left a note for her, but then I left. I headed, South, to the church… I saw this, _thing_…"

"A monster?"

"Yes, but… But not like the others. This one was huge. I hid up against a wall, and then I kept on course. To the church… It was the church that I had married May in. That's my connection to Silent Hill. We would come here as a couple. When I left the church, I came across this bar, and that's when I met you."

"Hm, I was at the church, just a few hours ago, right before you got there."

"I think," Adam says, "I think I'm supposed to pay retribution for some crime I had committed. I failed my wife somehow, and that's why I'm here, to make things right… This is my punishment."

They hear a tapping on the glass. Looking over, they see a few stray raindrops hitting the window.

"It's raining," Eve says, "I've never seen it rain before… in Silent Hill.

Adam watches the stray drops hitting the glass for a moment, then taking another drink, he turns to Eve. Her face now turned to the light, he gets a clearer view of the woman. She had delicate but pronounced features, but Adam is most struck by her cheekbones.

"You have beautiful cheekbones," Adam says. Eve turns to look at him.

"Oh, yeah?"

"My wife had the same high, pronounced cheekbones…"

Eve turns back to the window, as Adam looks over her for another moment.

"So," he says, "what's _your_ story?"

Eve clears her throat. Then, breaking her stare, turns from the window to face Adam.

"Well," she starts, "for one thing, I've been here a lot longer than you have."

"How long?"

"My best guess would be three months."

"Jesus Christ," Adam says, shaking his head.

Eve takes a drink.

"My story starts like yours, and Maggie's," Eve continues, "I woke up in the hospital, with no memory of what'd happened before. I left the hospital, and came across the first of Silent Hill's abominations. A toddler… It still makes my skin crawl. That's when I met Dan, who took me to the motel and taught me about Silent Hill. I went to a number of places… I won't bore you with the details, they're not important. But one place directed me to the next, and then I came to the park, where I saw my mother."

"Your mother?"

"Well, in a sense…" Eve clarifies, smiling bitterly, sardonically, "A bloated, rotting corpse, resembling my mother… And that's when I found out, what I did - why I'm here… When I was seventeen, I was a slut - I guess I still am - and I got pregnant. I guess I couldn't deal with it. I'm too selfish. So I did something unforgivable… I killed my baby."

Eve looks down at her glass, with a detached expression. The corners of her lips start to quiver. The rain grows into a downpour outside, rapidly drumming against the pub window. As Eve continues, she starts to choke on her words.

"I, uh… I drowned my baby in the lake. And that's why I'll never leave here, because there's no forgiveness for what I've done."

"Eve," Adam says softly, placing a hand over hers sympathetically, "everybody deserves forgiveness. I'm a Catholic. I was always taught that everybody has the opportunity for redemption, no matter what they've done."

"No," Eve says flatly, "There may be redemption for what you've done, but not for me. Silent Hill is my personal Hell, and I'm doomed to wander these streets for the rest of my life."

"Eve," Adam responds, "Since I've found myself here, I've thought tirelessly about what this place is… A nightmare? Hell? But I don't believe it's either… I think this is Purgatory."

"Purgatory?"

"Yes, in the Catholic faith, we believe in a place called Purgatory. A place where people go, who have committed sins, for which they cannot enter Heaven for. It's a temporary holding place, where people must stay for a period of time, to work for redemption… Eventually, once you've finished your task in Purgatory, you can enter the gates of Heaven."

Rain running down the pub window, the neon lights form watery patterns over their faces. Eve presses a hand up against the cold glass, to feel the vibrations of the downpour through its pane. She sighs, and shakes her head.

"I don't know," Eve says softly, "I'm too scared to get my hopes up again."

"Just keep pushing," Adam replies firmly, "You have nothing to lose."

"That's certainly true," she shoots back with sardonic laughter.

Adam's eyes flick across Eve's face, and after watching her for a few moments, he breaks the silence once more.

"You said… that you're a slut."

"Yeah?"

"Why would you say something so cruel about yourself? Since I came in here I could see so much resentment in your eyes, so much self-hatred… But I can tell, that you're a good person, that you have a desire to right your wrongs. What you've done, how you've lived - good or bad - does not define you as an individual. I don't understand how you can speak of yourself in such demeaning terms."

Adam and Eve lock eyes. She watches him with a withdrawn, analytical expression. She's touched, but unconvinced.

"You said you saw your mother," Adam says, "and you say there are no coincidences in Silent Hill. Then what do you think her significance is, why do you think she's here?"

Eve grins at Adam.

"Aren't you perceptive… I've though about it. My mom was the one who had always told me I was a slut, a whore, a tramp."

"Your mother would say that?"

"Yeah, but she was right, wasn't she? And I suppose that's why she's here. She was the symbol of my judgement… And though I hate that woman, I know she was right about everything she had said about me. Maybe - maybe if she had been a little more supportive of me, I would've turned out differently, but I suppose I can't pass the blame onto her."

"What about your father? Was he in the picture? What'd he think about what your mother would say to you?"

Eve's expression suddenly changes, and Adam sees and expression on her face that he had never seen before. At the mention of her father, her eyes light up and a genuine smile comes across her face.

"My dad was great. He'd always tell me I was beautiful, that I was special. And he would _never_ say the kind of things my mom would say."

The smile disappears from Eve's face.

"She would only say those sorts of things when my dad wasn't around. And, I think, it was partly because he thought I was so beautiful, that she hated me so much. I think she was jealous of me. It was after I had hit puberty that she changed. She just… turned on me. So when my dad was away, she'd suddenly charge into my room, screaming like a maniac - it used to terrify me - and she would just start slapping me, punching me, pulling my hair. She'd call me whore, and a slut, and accuse me of flirting and coming onto men - which I did… But the worst part was when she would lock me in the closet… I would always panic…"

Eve drifts off suddenly, losing herself in thought. Adam looks across at her with pity and horror.

"Eve," he says with a tone of total shock, "that's _extreme_ abuse! It's no wonder you needed that sort of validation. Anybody who had to deal with that would be totally screwed up… You have to give yourself a break… forgive yourself… You were tormented, and you made a horrible decision. But eventually you have to let yourself move on."

A silence falls between the couple. The roar of the rain against the window is the only sound. Adam and Eve look into each other's eyes for a long while. For a moment, Eve feels as though a piece of her soul which had been missing for so long had returned. Feeling a sweet emotion rise up in her chest, Eve tries to push it away, self-hatred being the only things she has known for a long while. Clearing her throat, Eve breaks her stare with Adam, looking out the window once more. Suddenly, Eve looks up at Adam with a mischievous grin, masking her despair. Perplexed, Adam looks back at her and smiles.

"What?" Adam says with an insecure laugh.

"I like you," Eve says with a self-satisfied smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says, raising her glass to her lips and taking a drink, "you're remarkably boring, but you seem sincere."

Adam laughs and finishes his drink, setting the glass down firmly.

"Look, Eve, I have to return to the motel. I need to find Elizabeth. It's my responsibility to look after her, to make sure she gets out of here with me."

"That's fine," Eve replies resignedly, "I should be on my way, in any case."

Adam and Eve slide out from the pub booth and walk to the door. Eve zips up her jacket as Adam pushes open the door and they step out into the heavy rain. Turning her face up to the sky and turning up her palms, Eve feels the rain on her skin.

"I can't believe this!" Eve exclaims. "Rain."

Adam turns to her with a smile, the rain matting down his hair. Pushing his hands into his pockets, he walks backwards away from Eve.

"Goodbye, Eve," he says.

Eve drops her head to face him.

"Bye, Adam, hopefully we'll see each other again sometime."

"I'm sure we will," Adam replies.

Turning from Eve, Adam walks away from her as she watches him disappear into the veil of rain.


	16. Chapter 16: Elizabeth

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XVI: Chapter 16 follows Adam, that's all I'll say. ****Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART and not Adult Fanfiction as previously stated. Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XVI.**

Through the heavy downpour Adam sees the glowing violet aura of the motel. Fractured quotes, slivers of images, run through his mind as he reflects on his encounter with Eve. He breaks into a jog, keeping his hands warm in their pockets. Clouds of condensation rise from his mouth as he exhales, floating upwards, then dissipating, in the cold atmosphere of Silent Hill. Cutting through the parking lot, he looks up at his motel room, seeing the door closed. Adam stops momentarily, catching his breath, then walks to the stairway. His boots make a heavy metal clang as he skips up the stairs, then making it to the door, he opens it, to an empty room. Everything looks as he had left it. His eyes scan the room, looking for the girl he had come here to find, but there is no sign of her. Taking a few steps into the room, Adam runs his hand over his face, wiping away some of the rain.

"Elizabeth?" Adam calls out, hoping she may be in the bathroom, but there is no reply.

Suddenly, Adam's eyes catch a note left on the nightstand, where he had left one for Elizabeth. He walks up to the nightstand picking up the note, it is written in neat, feminine handwriting.

_Adam,_

_I'm sorry I couldn't be here when you got back, but if you find this note, I want you to know that Silent Hill has guided me to where I need to go. I wish you could come with me, but I suppose this is something I must do on my own. Don't worry about me, Adam, just try to find your own escape from this nightmare. You'll be in my thoughts._

_- Elizabeth_

Adam drops the note back on the nightstand, as a panic rushes through him. _I can't let her do this on her own… It's too dangerous. There's no way she can make it through this without my help. If only I knew where she had gone._ Adam turns from the night stand, and, leaving the motel room heads back into the rain. As he cuts back across the parking lot, Adam tries to wrack his brain, to figure out if she had left any clue as to where she needed to go. _Could she have gone back to the school? Why would she do that?_ _Maybe I could return to the hospital, and find her file? No, I have no idea what her last name is… The church? Not likely._ Adam hurries onward, in no particular direction, with no clue, but listless. He looks around, in the vain hope that he may see her, though rationally he knows that wherever she has gone, she be quite a ways from here by now. Frustration getting the better of him, Adam runs a hand over his face. _Damn it!_ Adam kicks at the ground.

Crossing a street, he ducks into a doorway, to get some shelter from the rain. Pulling out his map, Adam turns so that the faint light from the street illuminates its contents. He scans it methodically, meticulously. _The cemetery… The park… The motel… The department store… The school… The hospital… No, no, no… Damn it, Elizabeth, why did you have to do this on your own? Why couldn't you just wait for me? Tell me where you were going?_ Suddenly, Adam's eyes stop on a building on the Southern outskirts of the town. _Silent Hill Music Hall & Conservatory._ He stares at it for a moment, and his mind starts turning. _At the school… Elizabeth said she used to take choral and piano lessons in school… It's the only clue I've got._ Adam folds up the map and replaces it, stepping out from the doorway, back into the downpour. He breaks into a run, heading South. It is some nine blocks to his destination, and every passing moment spells greater danger for the girl Adam felt he was responsible to protect. His boots splash as they hit the watery street. Blocks pass by, and Adam dashes as fast as his legs will take him.

As he races, memories of Elizabeth flash through his mind. When he had first met her in the foggy courtyard of the school. How scared and defenceless she looked. The memory of her standing over him, cleaning his cuts. The orange glow from the fire he had lit to burn the books, flickering across her face. _How could this sweet, innocent girl possibly protect herself from the horrors of Silent Hill? _As Adam comes down the final block he stops across the street from the Conservatory. Leaning up against a wall, Adam catches his breath, analysing his destination. It is a large, gothic building, with a pyramidal, black hatched roof and an iron treble staff at the the top. It's a large, brick building, its windows blocked with iron bars. At its front, three concrete stairs lead up to a pair of heavy doors, above the doors, a sign: _Silent Hill Music Hall & Conservatory._ And, standing in front of the doors, one of the nuns, her arms folded into a praying position, a silver cross clasped in her hands.

Adam takes another moment to completely catch his breath, heavy rain pouring down on him, and slowly he gains his composure. Then, stepping from the curb, he crosses the street, pulling the crowbar from his belt loop. Adam shakes his arms out, as if preparing for a race, and waves the crow bar in his hand, getting a feel for its weight and adjusting his grip. He steps up on the curb. As he gets to the base of the stairs, the nun jerks into motion, her joints clicking and popping, her body twitching as she descends the stairs, advancing towards him. Grabbing his crowbar with two hands, Adam steps back, preparing himself for a fight. Widening his stance into a batting position, he draws his weapon back. The nun, raises her pointed cross into the air. Adam swings at her head with brute force, snapping it sideways and tearing a chunk of flesh from her face. The nun swings back at him, Adam skipping backwards as the cross sails passed him. He swings downwards, the hooked edge of his crowbar making a deep slash down the centre of the nun's face. The nun retaliates, the cross missing once more, sailing weakly through the air. Drawing his arms over his head, he swings down at the creature with all his strength. The crowbar slams down on the top of the nun's head, its hook sinking deep into its skull. The nun drops its cross, its body convulsing. Adam pulls out the crowbar. The nun falls limply to the ground, shaking on the rainy sidewalk. Blood runs out from its skull, mixing with the rainfall. In a steady stream, it pours out onto the sidewalk, over the edge, into the curb, and down the street.

Stepping over the monster, Adam walks up the stairs of the Conservatory. Grabbing the brass knob of the Conservatory door he turns it, finding it open. Creaking slightly, he opens the door and steps inside. Standing inside the door, he looks over the room. It's a large concert hall. Designed like the inside of a shell, a stage at the back has a large arched roof, that rises over the rows of seats to the entrance. At the back, there is a large pipe organ, with huge silver pipes running from the floor to the ceiling. Adam scans the room for any signs of life.

"Elizabeth!" Adam calls out, his voice reverberating through the hall.

Hearing no reply, Adam walks forward, down the cascading, red-carpeted stairs running between the seats. As he descends, he looks to his right and left, looking for anything of interest which may be sitting on the seats or floor. Eventually, the floor levels out as Adam comes to the front of the stage. He turns right, finding stairs to the stage off to one side. Climbing the stairs he walks out onto the stage, looking around himself searchingly. His eyes lock in place, facing the pipe organ, as he sees a shiny blue object sitting on its keys. He walks over to the pipe organ, grabbing the object off of its keys. It's a shining, blue brooch, with a pink bell in its centre. _This is Elizabeth's brooch… She is here! _Adam slides the brooch into his shoulder bag, and turns from the organ. Walking off the stage, Adam turns left, walking to the corner of the room, but there is no door. He cuts across the stage, going the opposite way, and upon reaching the opposite corner, finds a door with a push bar on it. He reads the sign: _Conservatory Downstairs._

There is a heavy metallic click as Adam pushes open the door into a dark stairwell. The stairs only descend from here. He heads into the stairwell, down the stairs. As he makes his way down the first few steps, the door slams shut behind him and the room is totally black. Placing a hand on the cold metal railing, Adam slowly walks down the stairs. Hitting the first landing, he turns around and goes down the next flight. Hitting flat ground once more, Adam staggers forwards, holding his arms out. His hand meet a cold metal surface. Feeling around it, he finds another push bar. He pushes the door open, he steps into a hall. This is a basement, below the music hall. It is only slightly brighter than the stairwell. There are a row of rooms running on the left side. Adam calls our to Elizabeth once more, but there is no reply. He walks to the first room, turning its knob. _Locked._ Continuing on, he makes his way to the next door. Turning the knob, it opens, and Adam walks inside.

The room is empty for the most part. Posters with musical symbols line the walls: scales, modes, images of Mozart and Beethoven. The only thing other than that, is an upright piano, with a metronome sitting atop it. Walking over to it, Adam looks over the piano. It's a standard upright piano, with some rosewood shell. But Adam is somehow struck by the small metronome which sits above it. It is a plastic, pyramidal metronome, with faux-wood siding and a long, silver pendulum. Reaching over to it, he taps the pendulum, resulting in a rhythmic ticking.

_Adam is seated at an upright piano. The metronome seated atop the piano ticks at a rhythmic 120 beats per minute. At that moment, a teenage girl wearing a Catholic schoolgirl's uniform steps round the corner. He encourages her to sit on the bench, which she does, and he then proceeds to play the piano._

"_Okay, just like this," Adam instructs, "C… G minor, G… D… E suss, E, C."_

_Adam plays as he reads out the chords. The girl watches attentively. Then as he finishes, he turns to her holding out a hand to indicate that it is her turn to play. She taps her foot along with the metronome, then imitates what he did, playing on the higher keys of the piano. But, as she does so, she stumbles a few times, causing a dissonance near the end of the progression. She laughs nervously, looking over at Adam, with an embarrassed expression._

"_That's good," Adam assures her, "Just remember to roll up the keys as you come back to the C major."_

_Adam taps his foot, syncing himself with the metronome, and then plays the progression once more:_

"_C… G minor, G… E suss, E, C… Now you try."_

_The girl imitates him once more, reading out the chords as he did._

"_C… G minor, G… E suss -"_

_There is a crashing sound, and the girl looks up from the piano at the source of the noise. There is another crashing sound, as Adam rises from the piano with a concerned expression. The sound is coming from the studio. Adam turns to his student._

"_Just one moment, I'll be right back."_

_Adam walks around the corner and down the hall. Coming to a door, he opens it, stepping into the small brightly lit art studio. An easel lies on its side, turned over, and a fresh wet painting lies on the floor, a hole punched through the centre. Paint is spattered across the floor and paintbrushes lie strewn about. Up against the wall, Adam's wife stands with her hands clasped over her ears. She has a frustrated expression on her face. She curses under her breath._

"_May?" Adam says, concerned, "What's wrong?"_

"_It's not right," May replies, "I can't get it right."_

"_The painting?"_

"_It's not coming together the way I planned it, it looks all screwed up."_

_Adam walks over to the painting, looking over it. It is an oil painting of a gentle stream emerging from the doorway of their home. The painting displays a high degree of technical proficiency and and expressionistic flair._

"_May… this looks amazing."_

"_No, I screwed it up."_

_May begins to pace back and forth, muttering under her breath. Picking up the easel, Adam places the damaged painting back on it, then turns to his wife. She has a wild expression in her eyes, she stares at the ground with a detached expression, whispering something unintelligible. Walking over to her he grabs her by the shoulders. Leaning forward, he looks deep into her eyes._

"_May," he says, "You're losing it again… Can you come back for me?"_

_She looks back into his eyes, but doesn't seem to be there. Adam's wife seems lost in some distant world._

"_May," he repeats, "Come back, honey… It's okay…"_

_Slowly she seems to get her grip on the situation. And her expression changes from one of wild detachment, to a warm, loving, familiar gaze. As she becomes aware of the situation, she tilts her head, looking back at him with an apologetic gaze. Adam pulls her close and, kissing her on the lips, wraps his arms around her._

"_You scared me there," Adam says._

Adam reaches forward and grabs the pendulum, stopping the metronome. _She was sick._ He turns from the piano and walks to the door. Leaning up against the frame, he sighs, reflecting on this distant memory. Stepping out from the room, Adam continues down the hall, checking the next room - which is locked. From here, the hall branches off to the left. He continues straight, to check all remaining rooms, but all he finds are more locked doors, and one room which looks just like the one Adam was in. Time is precious, so he leaves the room, turning back the way he came. As he makes his way to the hallway branching off, a piercing scream shatters the silence. _Elizabeth._

Adam breaks into a sprint, turning round the corner, racing towards the source of the scream. As he runs down the darkened hallway, he strains to see in the darkness. Door after door passes, some opened, some closed, but no sound seems to come from any of them. Another scream. It is coming from a room off to the right, its door half opened. Adam bursts through the door to see Elizabeth, backed into its corner holding her gun out in front of her. A nun staggers towards her, closing in slowly, its body jerking and twitching. Its bones crackling and popping as it raises its pointed cross high over its head in a stabbing motion. Elizabeth is pulling the trigger again and again, but it just makes impotent clicks. _She's out of bullets._ Adam lunges forward, swinging his crowbar down on the nun's head. The hooked end of his weapon punctures its skull, making a wet cracking sound. He jerks the crowbar back, tearing a large chunk of skull loose from the monster's head, sending blackened blood splashing across the floor. The nun falls backwards at Adam's feet. He raises his boot high in the air and stomps on the nun's skull with all his strength. Its head is pulverised. The creature's body twitches momentarily and then goes limp, as a pool of blood forms around its crushed skull.

Her eyes wide with terror, Elizabeth keeps pulling the trigger of her gun. her body trembles violently. Sliding his crowbar through a belt loop, Adam steps towards her, placing a hand over her gun. Gently, he pulls it from her hands, setting it on a desk beside them. Elizabeth holds out her hands, shaking, as though she were still holding the gun. There is a bloody scratch across her right cheek. Adam reaches around her, pulling her close in a tight hug. She gasps and whimpers as Adam strokes her back, trying to calm the girl.

"Sh, sh, it's okay," he whispers softly.

"You came for me," Elizabeth says, in shock and disbelief.

"Of course I did."

"I thought I was dead," Elizabeth relaxes slightly, pushing her head against Adam's chest.

"Why would you go without me?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth replies, "I didn't want to burden you."

"I want to help, Elizabeth, I'll take you wherever you need to go."

Stepping back from her, Adam places his hands over her shoulders, smiling reassuringly and looking into her eyes. Then, turning, he guides her over to the desk, and placing his hands around her waist, lifts her and sets her down on the desk. Cocking his head, and turning her chin to the left with one hand, he looks over the bloodied scratch on her cheek. It's a superficial wound, a grazing cut which was probably caused by one of the nuns, though Adam refrains from asking. Using his shirtsleeve, Adam wipes away a little blood.

"Ow," Elizabeth says, wincing.

"It's just a scratch," Adam diagnoses, matter-of-factly.

Suddenly remembering something, Adam reaches into his shoulder bag.

"Look what I've got."

Adam pulls out the shiny blue brooch he had found in the music hall.

"My brooch!" Elizabeth exclaims, her eyes lighting up and a big smile crossing her face.

Adam grabs her cashmere sweater with one hand and pins it on with the other.

"That's so sweet," Elizabeth says, smiling enthusiastically, "I thought I had lost it!"

"Now you're back to your full glory," Adam replies playfully, smiling back at her.

Adam places his hands over Elizabeth's shoulders, looking over her. Her eyes seem to flicker and she swallows nervously. Adam slides his hands down Elizabeth's arms. As his hands pass over hers, she grabs them. She looks up at him with her wide, blue eyes. Elizabeth sighs.

"Why did you come back for me?" she asks.

"I wouldn't let you do this alone," Adam replies.

"That thing almost killed me… It would have killed, if you hadn't come."

"Well, your safe now, that's what's important."

Holding his hands, there is a long pause, Elizabeth looking into Adam's eyes lovingly. Drawing her leg up, Elizabeth runs her foot up between Adam's legs. Pulling back, he let's go of Elizabeth's hands. He tries to speak but chokes on his words. Her returning expression is one of confusion and rejection.

"Elizabeth, don't."

"Why?" she replies, looking over at him with a spurned expression.

"It's not appropriate," Adam replies.

"You've been so kind to me… I just want to do something to repay you."

"You don't have to _do_ anything. It wouldn't be kindness if I expected something in return."

Elizabeth drops her head, staring down at her feet. Drawing one hand up, she guides her hair back behind one ear and looks as though she is trying to make sense of the situation. She turns her face up to him, arching her eyebrows in a heartbroken expression, creasing her forehead slightly. She blushes.

"It was stupid… I don't know what I was thinking."

"No, it's no big deal, you've been through a lot."

"So have you," Elizabeth replies, reaching for Adam's hand, but he pulls away.

"Come on," Adam says, "let's get out of here."

Elizabeth hops off from the desk and walks to the door, holding her elbow with one hand and looking down with a shamed expression.

"I feel so embarrassed," Elizabeth says.

"There is nothing to be embarrassed about."

They head through the doorway, and into the hall, Elizabeth walking ahead of Adam. They continue on, in silence, but suddenly, Elizabeth stops. She stands in place, looking at the floor, as though she had something she needed to get off her chest. Adam stands there, watching her quizzically.

"What is it?" Adam asks.

Elizabeth turns, and looks up at him for a second, but then glances down at the ground.

"Did…" she stops herself, "Did you lose interest in me?"

Adam puts a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"Elizabeth, you're a very sweet, pretty girl, but I'm not interested in you that way… I'm too old for you."

Elizabeth looks up at him with a confused, wounded expression.

"But… what about… _before_?"

Adam suddenly feels nauseous and dizzy as he realises what she is referring to. He loses his balance and almost falls over sideways, planting his shoulder against the wall for support. His face contorts into a painful expression, and he puts his hand over his face. His teeth clenched tightly, Adam curses under his breath.

"Did that really happen?" he says.

"_What_… of course it did," Elizabeth replies looking at him in disbelief.

"I though it was a dream."

"No… we -"

"Jesus Christ," Adam hisses hitting himself on the side of his head, "I'm so sorry, Elizabeth."

"Don't be _sorry_," she replies, her eyes welling up with tears.

"It was a mistake."

"Adam… I wanted to."

"Elizabeth…" Adam curses under his breath, "It's not okay… I - I shouldn't have done that… God damn it…"

Elizabeth places her hands over her heart, her bottom lip trembling as tears roll down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispers softly.

"It's my fault, Elizabeth, not yours."

"Why does it have to be anyone's fault?"

"Come on," Adam says, guiding he back on their course, trying to ignore her tears.

Making their way back to the stairwell, they climb back up to the music hall and then exit the conservatory. Back in the rain, Adam retraces his steps, making their way back to the motel. As they walk together, they exchange no words, but Adam's thoughts turn in his mind. He curses himself for his irreversible lapse in judgment, for failing his wife's memory. For taking advantage of this sensitive girl. Periodically, Elizabeth starts to cry, but, not knowing what he can do or say, he chooses to ignore her. Adam feels that the only solution at this point, is to protect her, but keep some emotional distance. Continuing Northward through the rain, they pass a gas station. Elizabeth stops suddenly, grabbing Adam's arm. He looks over at her with an inquisitive expression.

"What is it?" Adam asks.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Elizabeth replies.

"You want to go to the gas station?"

Elizabeth nods, so they walk to the front door of the gas station. Adam pushes on the door, finding it open. Walking inside he looks around, making sure it's safe. It is a convenience store, in an apparently orderly state. Looking over to the right, he sees the bathroom door. He turns to Elizabeth.

"Okay, there it is… Call for me if you need anything."

Elizabeth walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Adam wanders around the store, glancing around him listlessly. The store is in a surprisingly orderly state. But at the moment, his mind is solely absorbed by his indiscretions with Elizabeth. _Jesus, I made a mistake… How could I make such a stupid decision? What would May think? She may be gone, but I have a responsibility to respect and honour her memory… And I have a responsibility to treat this impressionable girl right… Not exploit her. I'm so sorry, May, I've betrayed you. In death, I've failed you… You deserve better._ Adam circles round a rack of candy, pacing restlessly, his hand on his chin. Several minutes pass and Adam realises that Elizabeth has not returned. Walking to the bathroom door, he knocks.

"Elizabeth?"

There is no response. Adam knocks louder.

"Elizabeth? Are you okay?"

Adam tries the door, but it's locked. A shock of panic runs through his body. _I should have checked the bathroom first… What if some monster was in there? Damnit, Adam!_ Taking two steps back, he runs at the door, slamming his shoulder against it. A sharp pain shoots through his shoulder. He staggers backwards, clutching his shoulder and groaning in pain. Stepping back Adam kicks the door, once, then twice, shocks of pain running through his leg as he does so. The door seems unbreakable, but he is determined to get inside. Mustering all his strength, he lunges forward, driving his foot against the door. The wood around the padlock shatters and the door flies open.

"Elizabeth!" he calls out, walking inside the bathroom.

The bathroom is empty. Walking passed the stall he pushes open the door, but Elizabeth is nowhere to be seen. By the wall, the bathroom window is open, and a milk crate is set up under it. Adam runs to the window, stepping up on the milk crate, he sticks his head through the window. There is no sign of the girl.

"Elizabeth!"


	17. Chapter 17: Silent Hill Cemetery

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XVII: Chapter 17 continues with Eve's story. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART and not Adult Fanfiction as previously stated. Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XVII.**

Eve staggers drunkenly though the rainy Silent Hill street. The rain is pouring down torrentially, forming streams in the gutters. Stepping up on the curb, she slips slightly, but regains her balance. Eve walks with one shoulder up against the building, trying to get shelter from the overhanging storefront signs. Clouds of condensation form from her mouth as she exhales into the cold night's air. Fidgeting with her fingers in her pocket, Eve feels the cold iron key. _Hopefully, this is the right key for the cemetery._ She picks up speed, her boots splashing in the rain. Making a left hand turn, she cuts across the street diagonally, making her way to the Northwest. Crossing the street, she is back up on the curb, and takes shelter below the storefront signs once more. _I wonder if I'll ever actually see Adam again? Or anybody else for that matter? As much as I hate to admit it, his little pep talk has really got my hopes up… Surely, only to get smashed once more._ Eve makes it to the end of the block and turns right. Now, walking straight North, she drops her head and watches the rain splash around her feet. The orange glow of the streetlights reflect of the rainy sidewalk, and Eve can see her distorted reflection staring back up at her. On and on she goes.

A distant cacophony intrudes into the silence, barely audible through the sound of the heavy downpour. For a moment, Eve thinks it's her radio, but quickly realises that it is something else altogether. Continuing North, the din becomes gradually louder. She looks forward, peering into the rain, and slows to a cautious walk. She can make out a figure in the distance, set up in the middle of the street. Eve steps from the sidewalk, making her way to the middle of the road as she advances towards the shadow in the distance. _Not one figure, two._ Eve sees two people, standing in the middle of the road. From the tone of their voice, they are arguing. One of the two figures is making wild gestures with his hands, while the second has a more passive physicality. Eve continues walking forward, then stops. _It's Maggie._ She stands across from a man, who Eve identifies as the man who had robbed her earlier. They seem to be in some heated argument, though Eve cannot make out what they are saying. Eve watches them, the couple unaware of her presence. The man draws his arm back and slaps Maggie across the face.

"Hey!" Eve screams, breaking into a full sprint.

As she closes in on them, the man turns to Eve and raises the rifle, pointing it at her chest.

"Hey, hey, hey, bitch," he barks, "Back off!"

"Don't you fuckin' touch her, asshole!" Eve growls, extending an accusational finger at him.

"Vince," Maggie says meekly, rubbing the cheek he had slapped, "Please put down the gun… She's my friend."

"That's my rifle, asshole," Eve shouts.

"Well, it's mine now," Vince replies flatly.

Eve is close enough to grab the end of the rifle and try to pull it away, but the man's finger is on the trigger and the hammer is back - clearly he knows how to use it. Eve looks over at Maggie, who doesn't dare make eye contact with either one of them. She just stands silently and rubs her cheek. Eve steps forward and squints, looking over Maggie's face. There are bruises on her other cheek and under her eye.

"Does this guy hit you?" Eve asks, her voice shaking with anger.

"No…" Maggie replies, "We had a disagreement."

"Why don't you mind, you're own fucking business?" Vince barks at Eve.

"This is my business!"

"Hey, watch your tone, bitch," he raises the rifle at Eve, "I'm the one with the gun."

"Do it." Eve says, staring into his eyes to show she's not bluffing.

"Vince, stop it!" Maggie interrupts, "Nobody's shooting anyone."

"You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?" Eve starts, directing her outrage at Maggie, "I've been looking for you for days, I thought you were dead!"

"I'm so sorry, Eve," Maggie replies, holding her hands out apologetically, "A few days ago, I met Vince… I've been trying to contact you… we just haven't crossed paths."

"Who the fuck is this guy? How long has he been hitting you?"

"Eve…"

"How long has he been hitting you?" Eve repeats.

Maggie looks down at the floor. She wears an expression of shame, and doesn't dare look up at Eve. Losing her patience, Eve starts once more.

"I thought we were friends? I thought we were going to look out for each other? You just ditch me for some guy? Some guy who slaps you around?"

"Eve… I need a man in my life… I do… I'm _so_ sorry."

Vince drops his gun at his side and, dropping back his head, he laughs mockingly. Turning his head to Eve, a derisive grin crosses his face.

"What are you some kind of dike? You look like one… I'm sorry, sugar-tits, your gonna have to find another chick to eat your pussy."

His rifle hanging by his side, Eve sees an opportunity to strike. She lunges forward, driving her shoulder into Vince's chest knocking the wind out of him. He falls back, Eve landing forcefully on top of him. His head makes a distinct cracking sound as it hits the pavement. Eve climbs up on his chest, pinning his shoulders down with her knees and punches him in the face. Drawing her arm back again, she punches him a second time. Then, as she draws back for the third, Maggie throws herself onto of Eve.

"Please, stop," she cries, "just stop."

Eve wrenches the rifle from his hands.

"Give me my fuckin' gun back!"

She rises to her feet. Then as one last parting blow, Eve stomps on his groin. Vince lets out an agonising scream, curling into a ball and writhing around in pain.

"Eve," Maggie scream, wrapping her arms around Vince, "Stop it!"

Eve backs away from them.

"You need a man, Maggie? You're weak… Seeya, Mags."

Eve turns from them and continues down the street in the rain. Maggie calls out to her, but she ignores her. A sting of betrayal pierces Eve's heart. _I can't believe she'd turn on me like that… I took care of her, I taught her how to protect herself. And all this time she was gone, I was worried sick about her. Pff. I guess I'm a fool. You can't trust anybody, apparently… Well, at least I can say that I did the right thing this time, that I acted selflessly. I knew Maggie was weak, but not so stupid, so pathetic. She rather get slapped around by a man, than have a friend she can rely on._ Eve resents herself for becoming so attached to Maggie, for having the poor judgement to put her trust in somebody other than herself. She let down her guard again, and she got hit. As the streets of Silent Hill pass by, her mind turns over her time with Maggie, and how superficial it all seems in retrospect. She forgets entirely about the cemetery, though her body carries her along the appropriate course. _And what about Adam? An hour hasn't passed, but I bet I won't see him again for a long time - if at all. _Looking up from the rainy street, Eve see the tall, spear-topped wrought iron gate of the cemetery. She walks along it, running her fingers over its black posts. Drops of cold water run over her fingers. _The gate is up ahead._ Eve sighs and looks through the fenceposts, finding dense thickets of trees, some concrete walkways, and tombstones scattered about. Making it to the gate, she reads the sign: _Silent Hill Cemetery._

Reaching into her pocket, Eve retrieves the key. She slides it into the lock and turns it. There is a heavy metallic click, she pushes the gate open with a heavy groan. The doors, glide open to a long walkway running between the trees, every few feet smaller walkways split off to the right and left, running between the plots of graves. The winding sidewalk disappears into the darkness ahead of her. Stepping forward, Eve walks past the threshold of the gate, looking cautiously around her as she does so. She has no idea why it is Silent Hill has brought her here, nor what she expects to find. The rain has matted down Eve's hair, drops of cool rain drip off the tip of her nose. Turning off the main path, she walks over to a group of tombstones, she analyses them. She recognises none of the names, she finds nothing of any particular significance. Checking her recently retrieved rifle, Eve verifies that there is ammunition in the chamber. There are four bullets in the gun. Luckily, Eve had held onto the shells she had before and she has another twelve bullets in a box in her pocket. Turning from the graves, she crosses over to the graves on the opposite side. Again, she sees nothing of any significance.

Returning to the main path, Eve continues onward. As she progresses, her radio cuts in and a soft static swells from it. Eve adjusts her rifle, grabbing the grip with one hand, and with the other, places her finger over the trigger.

Emerging from the trees, an androgyne, Its body twisting and crackling as it stumbles towards Eve. In its hand, it holds a long, rusty knife. She stops in the spot, raising her rifle and looking through the sights. She hears a twig snap, and her head jerks around, looking in the direction of the sound. A mother wanders towards her, coming from her right. Eve focuses back on the androgyne. Looking through the sights, she fires, a thunderous clap shattering the din of rainfall. The right side of the monsters face explodes, flesh and blood blowing loose from its skull. The monster falls forwards on its chest. Running over to it, Eve stomps on its head, crushing it. Then she turns to the mother, skipping backwards to give her some space. Raising the rifle again, she fires rashly, blowing a hole in the mother's neck. It's head twists sideways and falls forward, hand at its breast, hanging from a chunk of skin. But the monster continues to advance towards Eve. It's pregnant belly pops with a fleshy tearing sound. Oily fluid splashes outwards as a baby falls at her feet, dragging behind the mother from its umbilical chord. Lunging forward, Eve strikes the monster's head with the butt of her rifle. Its head tears loose and hits the ground, rolling away, and the monster's body goes limp, falling to its knees then flopping onto its chest. Eve steps over the monster's baby. Raising her boot she stomps on its chest, it's black meaty insides smearing over the sole of her boot.

Eve pants, taking a moment to catch her breath. She never quite adjusts to the revulsion she feels killing these monster. The horror never truly subsides. Eve looks around her, analysing the tombstones. Their names mean nothing to her, and she finds nothing of any seeming importance. Eve steps to the path and continues her search. Passing a plot of graves, Eve reads the tombstone, searching the area for anything she may find valuable, but there is a nothing. The next plot bares no fruit either. In the distance, Eve can make out a fence, she has almost searched the whole cemetery. Another groups of tombstones. Her radio crackles and Eve hears the familiar giggle of a toddler. From behind a tree, the small creature emerges, baring a twisted, crooked smile. It wobbles towards Eve, its arms outstretched as though it is searching for a hug. She runs up to it. Kicking it under the chin, its head snaps backwards and it falls onto its back, letting out a horrific, painful cry. She stomps on its head, leaving a deep indentation in its skull. The toddler's arms thrash about violently. She stomps twice more, and its body goes limp, its head left warped and ruined. Looking over the area, there is still no item of significance. She continues onward.

Now, Eve comes to the wrought-iron fence at the back of the cemetery. She's searched the whole area, and has found nothing. She sighs, and turns around, 360 degrees. As she comes all the way around, Eve's eyes are caught by something unique. Off in the distance, there is a tombstone, with a freshly dug grave, and leaning up against the tombstone, a shovel. Walking over to it, Eve steps onto the grass, the wet, rain-covered weeds soaking her boots. As she gets within a few feet of the tombstone, she stops in her tracks. Her eyes growing wide with shock, she reads the tombstone. She reads her own name. Grim horror grips Eve, and she knows what she is supposed to do. She walks over to the tombstone and grabs the shovel. She looks over it once more, hoping it will feature someone else's name after all. But it is her name. Taking a firm grip of the shovel, she begins digging into the loose earth of the freshly dug grave. Digging her own grave. Eve grunts and groans as she raises the soil, throwing it back over her shoulder. One shovel full succeeds another as she continues to dig, no clue as to what she may find when she finally reaches the bottom. Two feet dug out, then three. Her arms growing tired, she leans up against the tombstone, taking a few minutes to regain her strength, then continues. Clearing some more soil, she steps into her grave and continues digging. Four feet deep, then five, and finally, Eve's shovel hits something solid: _Wood. _Dropping to her knees, Eve clears the dirt away. It's a coffin, made of maple, with a blond finish, and an indentation where her shovel struck the lid.

Adjusting her stance so her feet are off the lid, Eve raises it. An oppressive, dank smell rises from the open casket. There is nothing inside the coffin, it is bottomless, but a ladder leads down into the darkness. Eve casts the shovel aside, and climbs down the ladder. As she descends, all light is shut out, and all that remains is total darkness. Judging as best she can, she estimates some 15 or 20 feet. Finally she feels the soil beneath her boots. Running her hands around her, she feels the dirt around her. The claustrophobia of her narrow tomb grips her, and Eve has to steady her breathing. Slowly she steps forward from the base of the ladder, holding a hand out in front of her. She finds herself in a long, though narrow, corridor. There is just enough space for her to walk straight, her shoulders brushing against the walls whenever she sways too far left or right. The corridor continues onward, she walks some fifteen feet. Her heart is racing, stuck in this confined space, with no light. It feels as though it may cave in on her at any moment. Eve walks another five, then ten feet, and a faint light becomes visible at the end of the corridor. She hurries her pace, moving towards the warm, orange glow in the distance. As she nears it, she notices it flickers. _Fire._ Eve gets to the end of this long, narrow corridor, coming out into a small room.

For the first time, Eve can see around her clearly. The ceiling is higher here, maybe ten feet. The room is roughly twelve feet wide, and twelve feet long. Two lanterns hang from the ceiling, large orange flames dimly lighting the room. It's walls are made from dirt, and roots from trees and plants stick out all around. Up against the opposite wall, there is a tall oak cabinet with a cupboard atop it. Walking over to it, Eve looks over it. The cupboard has two small knobs on it, and a painting across the cupboard doors. The painting depicts a stage, with the red curtains of a theatre parted open. In the centre of the stage, a giant worm twists, rearing its head in a terrifying, dominant pose. Its body is covered in bulging, coursing, red and blue veins, and it looks as though it is gorged in blood. In the centre, at the tip of its head, there is a hole for a mouth, with a ring of pointed teeth around the edge of its mouth. Eve analyses the picture with a disgusted expression.

"The Conqueror Worm," Eve whispers under her breath.

At the bottom of the cupboard, just below the door, there are four brass wheels. Each one has a symbol on it. The first one has an image of a mask with a smile on it: the theatrical symbol for comedy. The second features an image of a woman with wings and a halo: an angel. The third wheel depicts a circle with a cross: the symbol for women. The fourth one also features the angel. Placing her thumb over the first wheel, Eve turns it to reveal the other symbols. The next symbol is a mask with a frown on it: the theatrical symbol for tragedy. Then she passes the symbol for women. After it, a circle with an arrow pointing up and to the right: the symbol for men. Then she passes the angel symbol. Turning the wheel once more, she comes across a male figure with bat-like wings and horns: presumably a demon.

Retrieving the poem from her pocket, Eve re-reads "The Conqueror Worm":

_LO! 't is a gala night _

_Within the lonesome latter years! _

_An angel throng, bewinged, bedight _

_In veils, and drowned in tears, _

_Sit in a theatre, to see _

_A play of hopes and fears, _

_While the orchestra breathes fitfully _

_The music of the spheres._

Eve turns the first wheel to the symbol of the angel.

_Mimes, in the form of God on high, _

_Mutter and mumble low, _

_And hither and thither fly— _

_Mere puppets they, who come and go _

_At bidding of vast formless things _

_That shift the scenery to and fro, _

_Flapping from out their Condor wings _

_Invisible Woe!_

Eve turns the second wheel to the symbol of the demon.

_That motley drama!—oh, be sure _

_It shall not be forgot! _

_With its Phantom chased for evermore, _

_By a crowd that seize it not, _

_Through a circle that ever returneth in _

_To the self-same spot, _

_And much of Madness, and more of Sin _

_And Horror the soul of the plot._

_But see, amid the mimic rout, _

_A crawling shape intrude! _

_A blood-red thing that writhes from out _

_The scenic solitude! _

_It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs _

_The mimes become its food, _

_And the angels sob at vermin fangs _

_In human gore imbued._

_Out—out are the lights—out all! _

_And over each quivering form, _

_The curtain, a funeral pall, _

_Comes down with the rush of a storm, _

_And the angels, all pallid and wan, _

_Uprising, unveiling, affirm _

_That the play is the tragedy "Man," _

_And its hero the Conqueror Worm._

Eve turns the third wheel to the symbol for tragedy, and the fourth wheel to the symbol for man. As she turns the last wheel she hears a click. _Angel, Demon, Tragedy, Man._ Eve grabs the handles of cupboard and pulls them open. Inside the cupboard, there are two wooden pegs. Hanging from each, a shiny silver key. Eve grabs them and looks over them. The first one is engraved with a name: _Eve._ The second one has a matching name: _Adam._ She slides the keys into her pocket. Looking over the cupboard, Eve's eyes lock on an object sitting at the bottom. A fake, red rose, with green leaves around its base: _my corsage._ Eve grabbed it from the day care centre, so long ago, and never threw it away. She had left it in the drawer of her motel room. Yet, here it was again. Slowly, she reaches out for it, her fingertips touching its fabric petal, and then she picks it up.

_Eve sits on the edge of a bathtub naked. Running a towel over her leg she dries herself off. The air of the bathroom is misty from her hot shower and the mirror is covered in steam, streaks of condensation running down. Eve rises from the edge of the bathtub, throwing the towel over a rack by the side of the tub. Walking to the bathroom door, she opens it, stepping into her room. The orange light of the sunset flows in threw her bedroom window. Her bedroom is neat and organised, a white dress lies draped over the edge of her double bed. Crouching in front of her bedside dresser, Eve grabs a pair of black underwear. She slides them on. Opening the top drawer, she grabs a matching bra. Sliding it over her arms she reaches around her back and hooks it. Eve walks over to her dresser by the door passing a long mirror. She grabs a blowdryer and dries her hair, then grabbing a brush, she brushes her hair. She sits on a chair in front of the dresser, looking into the mirror. For a half hour or more she preens and pins her hair, doing it up in a bun. Grabbing the dress off the bed, she unzips the back and slides into it, one leg at a time. Putting her arms through the loops, she reaches around her back and zips it up. She steps to the long mirror by the door._

_Seventeen years old. Eve stands in front of a tall mirror. She wears a long white dress. Her jet black hair worn up in a bun, her bangs part on the sides of her face. Eve steps from the mirror to her dresser, grabbing the red corsage. Stepping back to the mirror, she clips it to her dress. Looking over her outfit, Eve smiles. Drawing in a deep breath, she exhales nervously, then opening the bedroom door she steps into the hall. Eve runs down the stairs. Reaching the door, Eve turns the padlock._

"_Eve?" a voice calls out to her._

_She turns from the door, her dad sits on the couch. His face is a blur._

"_How do I look?" Eve asks with a smile. Holding out her arms, Eve spins around to show him the full outfit._

"_You look beautiful," her father replies breathlessly._

Eve replaces the corsage. _It was my prom._ She bites her lip anxiously, trying to recall that day. _I know I had a date for prom, but I don't remember going, or what happened that day._ She turns from the cabinet and slowly heads back to the corridor. Entering it, she takes the long route back, retracing her steps. After walking some thirty feet, drops of rain hit her cheek. Looking up, she sees the hole she had climbed down. Eve climbs the ladder, back out of her grave, and steps out onto the rain-covered grass. Walking over to the path, she makes her way back to the cemetery entrance. She fingers the keys and the corsage in her pocket. As she nears the gates she sees the silhouette of a large figure outside its doorway. Her radio doesn't crackle, but she grips her rifle, unsure of who it is.

"Hello?" Eve calls out.

"Hello." a gruff, male voice replies.

"Dan?"

"Yes," the voice replies.

Eve jogs over to him, and throwing her arms around him, hugs him tightly.

"My God," Eve starts, "where the hell have you been?"

"I've been around the town… Going where this place has lead me… I'm sorry I've been gone for so long."

Stroking his arm, Eve looks over his face. He takes her by the hand.

"Eve, I have to go… but I have a question to ask you."

"What is it?"

"Does my name have any significance to you?"

"Dan? No, I don't think so."

"Try to remember, Eve."

Eve looks down at the ground, searching her memory. After a moment she shakes her head.

"No… I don't think so… Should it?"

"I think so."

"What? How?"

"I don't know," Dan says, shaking his head, "I think _you_ have to remember."

"I don't get it."

"Maybe, in time, you will."

Dan runs his hands around Eve's waist, pulling her close. He gives her a deep, long kiss, his moustache scratching Eve's lip.

"I have to leave you now… But when I see you again, we'll solve this."

"Okay," Eve replies, her eyes flickering over his face.

With that, Dan turns his back on her, heading out into the rain. A sharp pain penetrates Eve's heart as she watches him leave. There is some deep, profound connection she has with this man. She knows there is some truth to what he said, that his name should bare some significance for her. But neither Dan, nor Eve, knows what it is. She stands in the rain and watches him disappear into the darkness. She whispers his name under her breath. It hooks her deep, but she can assign no meaning to it. Eve turns her face up to the sky, the rain pouring over her face. Another day, another location, but no answers, just more questions. She drops her head and begins to walk through the rain, back to the motel. The puddles on the street, splashing around her boots, the water permeated with the orange glow of the streetlights. Lost in thought, Eve wanders back to her motel.


	18. Chapter 18: Never More

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XVIII: Chapter 18 contains TWO BIG TWISTS, so please keep reviews SPOILER FREE. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART and not Adult Fanfiction as previously stated. Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XVIII.**

The downpour continues as Eve crosses the parking lot of the motel. As she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she hears screams coming from the second floor. A man and a woman are in the middle of a heated argument. Eve momentarily pauses and tries to focus in, but can't make out the words. She's exhausted. Slowly she walks up the metal staircase with heavy legs. As she ascends, the screams get louder and clearer. _Maggie and Vince._ She reaches the top of the staircase and sees a crack of light coming through a partly open motel room door. A dark, foreboding sensations grips Eve's heart. She walks towards the door, and, as she does so, she hears the malicious attacks of the man, and the apologetic replies of her friend. Reaching it she pauses and listens in for a moment.

"For God's sake, you worthless cunt," Vince screams, "I'm sick of taking care of you."

"What did I do?" Maggie responds with a plaintive cry.

"You hang on me like some desperate whore!"

"I'm just trying to make you happy, Vince."

"You're a _burden_! I just want you to spread your legs, and then get out of my way."

Eve pushes open the door and steps into the motel room. The violet neon light flows into the room. They both turn to face her as she does. Maggie is standing on one side of the room, by the door, a few feet from Eve, and Vince is on the opposite side of the room, next to the wall. They look at Eve with a surprised expression.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Vince shouts as he sees her, turning his head away in disbelief.

Eve leans up against the door frame.

"You pickin' on Maggie again?" she asks ironically.

"Nobody asked for your opinion," he replies.

His face is still bruised from where Eve had punched him, he strikes a posture of dominance and defiance, but it is apparent that he is deeply humiliated by Eve's attack on him earlier. Eve knows the type of person he is: insecure, weak, desperate to prove he has power over someone. When she had assaulted him in the rain earlier, taken his rifle, she had only made him more intent on acting as though he had power over somebody, and Maggie is the only individual weaker than he is. Maggie is the only person insecure enough to act as his punching bag. But Eve also knows that these sorts of people are the most dangerous. They can resort to extreme measures in order to guard their fragile egos. He reaches into his pocket, placing his hand in around some object. Eve can see the outline of the object in his pocket. _He has a gun._ Casually, Eve drops her hand to her side, placing it over her rifle. Trying to stop the situation from escalating she doesn't grab it, but keeps herself ready. Vince seems like an unstable, violent person. Maggie turns to Eve.

"It's okay, we've got this under control," she says.

"It doesn't look that way, Mags," Eve replies.

"How bout you get your girlfriend outta here," Vince scowls at Maggie.

"Vince," she says plaintively.

Eve and Vince lock eyes, exchanging a disdainful glare.

"Are you gonna play nice," Eve says mockingly, "or am I gonna have to kick your ass again?"

"You sucker punched me," he replies, clearly deeply humiliated by his beating.

"Look…" Maggie interjects diplomatically, "let's just calm-"

"Quiet!" Vince orders her.

"I don't want any trouble."

"I said quiet!" Vince barks, a threatening expression in his eyes.

His veins bulge out of his forehead and a malignant, murderous expression fills his eyes. Eve sees that he's shaking with anger. He can't stand to have Maggie talk back to him, even as meekly as she does - and, having Eve here, the woman who beat him up, is fraying what little sense of self control he has left. His hand grips the gun in his pocket tightly. _He's gonna lose it._ Eve raises a hand to apologise, to de-escalate the situation, but before she can, Maggie cries out.

"I don't want you to get hurt again," Maggie cries.

"Look, I'll -" Eve starts, but Vince snaps and screams at Maggie.

"Shut up, bitch!"

Pulling his hand from his pocket he sticks his arm out, pointing the gun at Maggie.

A loud bang.

Maggie staggers back. A vacuous silence fills the room. Maggie looks down at her chest. There is a hole torn in her scarlet top, blood begins pouring out from the hole, running past her shirt and over her stomach. Maggie looks down on it with shocked expression as the blood runs down her skirt and drips onto the carpet. A stuttering gasp escapes her as, raising a trembling hand, she places it over the bullet wound. With an expression of wide-eyed fear and disbelief, she looks up from her wound to Vince. Maggie coughs and gasps, then with a great effort, manages to speak.

"You… shot me?" Maggie says in shock.

Eve watches with her mouth agape. She tries to speak but no words come out. She looks at Vince, then back at Maggie. Vince, too, seems shocked by his own actions. Suddenly, his rage is gone and he stands with his arm still extended, a faint wisp of smoke rising from the end of the barrel. His eyes locked on Maggie, he seems unable to comprehend his what he has done. They stand there in silence for a moment, which seems to last an eternity. Then, her legs wobbling beneath her, Maggie falls to her knees, leaning on one arm, her other pressed to her bloody wound. Eve turns back to Vince.

"What did you do?" She shouts.

Vince jumps when he hears Eve voice, and spins in her direction, his gun pointed at her. Eve grabs her rifle and raises it in defence. He pulls the trigger. Click. Eve fires a split-second later. There is a thunderous bang and Vince stumbles backwards, his back hitting the wall. There is a bullet hole in the centre of his chest. Blood spreads outwards from it, staining his white dress shirt, streaks running down from the hole. He pulls the trigger at Eve. Click. Click. Click. He had fired his last bullet into Maggie's chest. Groaning he falls over, sideways, leaving a long streak of blood on the wall. His body goes completely limp.

Eve runs over to Maggie and drops to her knees. She grabs her shoulder.

"Maggie! Are you okay?"

"He shot me…" Maggie replies in shock.

Blood runs over her hand, a puddle forming on the floor. Maggie's face is already a ghostly shade of white. Eve grabs her hand, pulling it away. There is a deep, bloody hole in her chest.

"Lie back," Eve says with a shaken voice.

Guiding her onto her back, Eve presses her hands over the bullet hole, trying to apply pressure to the wound.

"Shit…" Eve whispers through clenched teeth, her eyes welling up with tears. Maggie places her hand over Eve's.

"Eve…" she whispers, her eyes looking up at the ceiling, blinking heavily as though she is about to drift off too sleep, "I'm dying."

"No, Mags… We can…"

"It's okay… It's too late to save me."

"No, it's not too bad," Eve shakes her head in denial, blood slipping through her fingers, pooling over her hands. Her voices cracks, and tears stream down her cheeks. She refuses to accept the obvious.

"Thank you," Maggie whispers, "for -"

Maggie coughs, and a drop of blood trickles from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes close.

"Maggie!" Eve screams, "Maggie!"

Her eyes open again. And groggily, she begins to speak again, forgetting what she was saying before.

"I have to tell you…" Maggie nods off for a second, "You… have to find Adam…"

"Why?"

"Eden…" Maggie whispers, cryptically.

Maggie slides a hand into her pocket, retrieving a key from it. She holds it out. Pulling one bloodied hand from Maggie's chest, she grabs the key, dropping it into her pocket.

"I want to say thank you," Maggie says, "for looking out for me. I… want to say… sorry, for abandoning you -"

Maggie coughs again, more blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, God," Eve cries.

She looks around her wildly as if she may find something that can save her friend.

"Help!" Eve screams out desperately, although she knows there is nobody there who can help her.

"You were right," Maggie says, her eyes blinking shut, "I _am_ weak… I'm sorry I have to leave you so soon… I'm sorry I can't make it up to you."

"No, Mags… Help! Somebody help!"

As those words escaped her, Eve breaks down crying. Hunched over Maggie's body she presses down on the wound as she trembles and gasps. Maggie falls into to silence and her body doesn't stir at all.

"Maggie?" Eve says through her tear-stained eyes, "Maggie… Maggie."

There is no reply.

"Oh, no… No, no, no," Eve whimpers softly, her hands still pressed over the bullet hole. She sits back, with her legs folded under her, and draws her hands make from the wound, dropping them at her side. She drops her head back and cries, her face turned up to the ceiling. _I forgive you, Maggie. _An hour or more pass, and Eve doesn't move a muscle.

Eve hears the sound of someone walking up the stairs outside. She rises to her feet slowly, walking to the open door. She steps outside, coming up the stairs is Adam, who turns to her as she emerges from the doorway. They lock eyes, Adam immediately startled by her despondent expression. He looks over her, blood all over her hands. He opens his mouth to speak, but stumbles on his words.

"Eve…" he says in a state of confusion, "what… what happened."

Eve tries to respond, but only one word escapes her lips.

"Maggie…"

Adam breaks into a sprint, running past Eve. He passes through the doorway, stopping in his tracks when he sees the body lying on the floor.

"Maggie…" Adam looks over her in disbelief, her lifeless, pale body strewn out on the floor, her legs folded under her in an unnatural pose, her arms spread out by her sides in a crucifixion pose. Adam puts his hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Jesus… No…"

Adam barely knew her. He wasn't nearly as attached to this woman as Eve was, but he is a compassionate person. He wishes that he could have helped her. _If only I had shown up sooner… _Maggie's death cuts deep at his heart, maybe more for Eve's sake than anything else. This is the second time in his life he's failed to prevent a woman's death. _Where do you go from here? What's happens after you die in Silent Hill? I hope… I hope she's in a better place now. _Raising his right hand, Adam crosses himself. Something he hasn't done for a long time. Placing his hand to his chest, he feels the wooden crucifix through his shirt. _Rest in Peace, Maggie._

"We can't leave her here like this," Adam says, after a long silence, looking down on Maggie's lifeless body.

He turns to Eve.

"Pull the blankets down… It's the least we can do."

Eve steps into the room, walking over to the bed. She pulls the blankets down, as instructed, as Adam kneels down. He slides his hands under her and lifts her body from the floor, her head hanging back as she's raised. Adam carries her over to the bed, setting her down softly. He straightens out her legs and folds her arms over her chest. Then, grabbing the blankets, he pulls them up over her shoulders. Looking down on her, Adam watches for a moment, then turns to Vince's body, lying lifeless on the ground. He had only seen this man once, when he first arrived in Silent Hill. Wearing a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and expensive leather shoes, there is a tattered hole the middle of his chest, a large blood stain around it.

"What about him?" Adam asks.

"Leave him," Eve says in a cold, disdainful tone.

Adam looks at her for a moment, then turns to leave the room. Eve walks up to the bed to watch her friend awhile longer, tear-stained tracks line her face. _I'm sorry Maggie._ Dropping her head, she turns, and walks from the room. Stepping onto the outside walkway the rain pours down on her, she walks across the second floor, past the stairway, to a partly opened door that Adam had walked into. She pushes the door open, and, stepping inside, closes the door behind her. Adam stands by the bed, looking back at her. He walks over to her. Placing a hand on her back, he guides her to the bathroom. He takes her over to the sink. Turning on the water, Adam places Eve's bloodied hands under the faucet, he grabs a bar of soap and starts to wash her hands. Eve stands still, looking down at their hands with a detached expression. Running his hands over hers, he rubs the blood off slowly, red water spinning around the drain. Sufficiently washing her hands, he turns of the faucet. Grabbing a towel, he dries their hands.

Taking her back into the main room they sit on the motel bed. Adam turns to Eve.

"I'm really sorry," he says.

"It's not your fault," Eve replies, staring down at the floor.

"I know she meant a lot to you… I guess, this is just the way things go."

"I wanted her, so bad. I wanted her friendship…"

She stares down at the floor with a lost expression. A half hour passes, the couple sitting silently, staring out at the motel room window, violet neon light glowing through the closed blinds. After a long time, Adam resolves to break the silence, to try to console Eve in some way. But he has no idea how, after all she's been through, with no clear indication of any progress, any end in sight.

"We're moving towards something," Adam says, "I'm sure of it."

Eve doesn't react. She just sits still and stares out at the window.

"I know things seem unbearable right now, but we can pull through this together."

Still, Eve sits motionless. _I can't get to her today. Maybe tomorrow. After she's slept… Had a little time to recover from the impact of Maggie's death._ Adam looks over Eve's disconsolate face, her pale blue eyes are locked in place, lost deep in thought. _I'm here for redemption and repentance, and I will do whatever it is I need to do to make things right. I'm going to help Eve to get out of here. And then I'll help Elizabeth. I won't leave this place until both of them are happy. That's my role now, isn't it? And, I guess, I'd do anything for them anyways… Even if I didn't have to… Because I care for them… Maybe more than I'd like to believe. _Turning her face to Adam for the first time in awhile, her eyes lock on his. A smokey lustre fills them, her eyes still red from crying. With a weak, resigned expression, with a languid demeanour, she parts her lips to speak, but for a moment nothing comes out.

"Adam," Eve says, looking up into his eyes, "kiss me."

Looking over her, Adam raises a hand, running it through her long black hair. His hand stopping at the back of her head, he pulls her close, giving her one soft kiss. He pauses for a moment and then kisses her a second time, longer this time. Stopping, he looks deep into her eyes and sees that she is broken, that she can't continue anymore, and that all she wants right now is affection and comfort. Adam draws her green army jacket back over her shoulder and drops it onto the floor by the bed. Kissing her again, he grabs the bottom of her shirt, drawing it up over her head and drops it on top of the jacket. Drawing her close, he kisses her neck, reaching around her back to unhook her bra. He pulls it over her arms and casts it aside, revealing Eve's large, supple breasts. Eve crawls up on the bed, parting her legs and lying on her back. Adam climbs on top of her. Kissing Eve passionately he reaches over her grabbing her youthful breast and caressing it. Sliding his other hand over her side, he grabs the other breast groping them aggressively. Suddenly, Eve's body stiffens up and she pushes back on Adam. Lust overtaking his senses, he ignores her resistance and pushes on more aggressively. A shot of pain runs through Adam's lips as Eve bites down on it. Grabbing his face, she claws his cheek wildly. Adam jerks back, kneeling up and placing a hand over his lip. Eve scrambles backwards, and, pinning her back against the wall throws her hands over her breasts defensively. She stares at Adam with a wild, terrified expression. Confused, he looks back at her, one hand pressed over his mouth, a little blood trickling from the four scratch marks across his right cheek. The exchange jolts a memory forward from Eve's subconscious.

_Eve sits on the edge of a bathtub naked. Running a towel over her leg she dries herself off. The air of the bathroom is misty from her hot shower and the mirror is covered in steam, streaks of condensation running down. Eve rises from the edge of the bathtub, throwing the towel over a rack by the side of the tub. Walking to the bathroom door, she opens it, stepping into her room. The orange light of the sunset flows in threw her bedroom window. Her bedroom is neat and organised, a white dress lies draped over the edge of her double bed. Crouching in front of her bedside dresser, Eve grabs a pair of black underwear. She slides them on. Opening the top drawer, she grabs a matching bra. Sliding it over her arms she reaches around her back and hooks it. Eve walks over to her dresser by the door passing a long mirror. She grabs a blowdryer and dries her hair, then grabbing a brush, she brushes her hair. She sits on a chair in front of the dresser, looking into the mirror. For a half hour or more she preens and pins her hair, doing it up in a bun. Then proceeds to apply her make up, with lipstick, blush, eyeliner, and mascara. Grabbing the dress off the bed, she unzips the back and slides into it, one leg at a time. Putting her arms through the loops, she reaches around her back and zips it up. She steps to the long mirror by the door._

_Seventeen years old. Eve stands in front of a tall mirror. She wears a long white dress. Her jet black hair worn up in a bun, her bangs part on the sides of her face. Eve steps from the mirror to her dresser, grabbing the red corsage. Stepping back to the mirror, she clips it to her dress. Looking over her outfit, Eve smiles. Drawing in a deep breath, she exhales nervously, then opening the bedroom door she steps into the hall. Eve runs down the stairs. Reaching the door, Eve turns the padlock._

"_Eve?" a voice calls out to her._

_She turns from the door, her dad sits on the couch. His face is a blur._

"_How do I look?" Eve asks with a smile. Holding out her arms, Eve spins around to show him the full outfit._

"_You look beautiful," her father replies breathlessly._

_He rises from the couch walking over to her. The room is dark, vague orange sunlight filtering in from the window as the sun sets. Looking over her, he looks into her eyes, his filling with tears. Reaching around her, he pulls her in a tight hug. Eve gets choked up from this display of affection as she hugs him back. A long, silent moment passes, Eve trying to stop herself from crying, not wanting to smear her mascara. Her father draws back, his hands wrapped around her waist. She slides her hands over his shoulders, running her hand over his arm. He pulls her close again, kissing her on the cheek, his moustache scratching her skin. Then, running his lips across her face he presses them against hers._

"_Dad," Eve says, laughing uncomfortably._

_His powerful arms grip her shoulders, pulling her tight as he kisses her a second time. Eve's body stiffens up, as she pulls her head back and turns it away._

"_That's enough," she says in a meek protest, trying to push back against him._

"_God, you look gorgeous," her father says, a possessed look in his eyes._

_Grabbing Eve aggressively, he pulls her over to the couch, setting her down. Sitting beside her, he grabs her chin, turning it to him as he kisses her. His hand moving around her back to unzip her dress._

"_Dad, stop it," Eve says trembling._

"_I need you, Eve," he says insistently._

_Drawing the hoops of her dress down from her pale shoulders, he grabs the back of her bra, and fumbles around with the strap for some time. Eve tenses her shoulders as the bra comes undone. She is frozen in a state of shock, with no idea what she should do. He pulls it over her arms and casts it to the floor. Kissing her neck, Eve tenses up defensively and a deep revulsion runs through her as his hand cups her breast. In one last, passive display of resistance, she grabs his wrist to pull his hand from her chest. Grabbing her breasts with both hands, he faces her._

"_Eve," he says, looking into her eyes with a passionate expression, his hands massaging her breasts, "don't push me away… You could make me so happy."_

_Guilt overtaking Eve, she drops her arms at her side, letting her father do what he pleases._

A tear falls over Eve's cheek as she stares blankly across the room. Her arms are folded over her bare chest tightly.

"He _fucked_ me," Eve whispers.

Adam stares back at her with an expression of horror.

"Who?" Adam asks, but Eve doesn't reply, "Who fucked you?"

"My dad," Eve whispers.

Adam tries to reply but stumbles on his words.

"All the time," Eve continues, "He did it _all the time…_"

A vacuous silence fills the room, Adam looking back at her speechless.

"Thats…" Eve starts, "That's why my mother was so jealous of me… That's why she hated me so much. She saw the way he would look at me… She knew what was going on, at some level, and she resented me for it. She blamed me for it… She thought it was my fault for it, that I was asking for it… maybe she was right."

"No!" Adam shouts, "Eve, you were not _asking for it_! This - Jesus! - This is _not_ your fault!"

Eve locks eyes with Adam, tears falling from both eyes now.

"Maybe… Maybe if I hadn't dressed the way I did -"

"Eve, no."

"I - I shouldn't have walked around like that -"

"This is not your fault - You were _abused_! There was nothing you did wrong."

"Maybe… I wanted it."

"Eve, you can't blame yourself."

"She… She would beat me, and lock me in the closet… And I _knew_ that I deserved it."

"Your mother should have blamed him, not you."

Suddenly, a deeper expression of horror comes across her face, a revelatory expression. She presses her hands to her face, falling over onto her side.

"Oh, God!" she wails, "The baby… it was _his_ baby!"

Adam drops his head, his eyes wide. He's almost as hard struck by this as she is. He presses his hand over his eyes, shaking his head in denial. Faint curses escape his lips. Eve's body shakes on the opposite side of the bed as she cries without restraint.

"It was my fault! It was my fault!"

Crawling over to her, Adam places a hand on her head.

"I think it's time for you to get out of here," Adam says, stroking her hair, "You've been through enough."

Violet light flowing in through the window, he continues to stroke her hair, trying to comfort her. Eve continues to cry. Crying for her lost friend, crying for her baby, crying over the revelations of her past - until she finally falls asleep. Adam stays next to her throughout the night, until, he too falls asleep, his arm over this traumatised woman.


	19. Chapter 19: The Rapture

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XVIV: Chapter 19 details Adam and Eve embarking on the final stretch of their journey. These are the final chapters of the story. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART and not Adult Fanfiction as previously stated. Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XVIV.**

Adam wakes to the violet light of his motel room. Groggily, Adam groans, and slowly he recalls what had happened the night before. A depression sweeps over him as he remembers Maggie's death, and horror as he remember Eve's revelation - that she had been raped by her father, that she had his baby, that she had killed it. Rolling onto his side he runs a hand over his face. He sees Eve sitting in a chair by the window. He looks over her, she sits in the chair looking off into space, then turning, she faces him.

"You're up," she says flatly.

"How are you doing?" Adam asks.

Eve shrugs.

"Could be worse," Eve says.

"You should be happy."

"Why is that?"

"You're getting out of here today."

"I guess we'll see," Eve says.

Adam sits up in the bed and groans again. As he rises from the bed, still clothed, he walks into the bathroom and washes his face. Then, returning to the room, he walks over to Eve.

"I have a feeling we're near the end here," he says, "We just need to find our next clue."

"I think I have it," Eve replies.

"What is it?"

"Before Maggie died," Eve starts, "she gave me something, and told me I needed to find you. She hand me something, which goes with a couple of items I had found in the cemetery."

Reaching into her pocket, she retrieves three keys. Looking over them she hands him the one that reads 'Adam'. Holding the other two keys, she grabs the blood-crusted one she received from Maggie, and holds it up for Adam to see.

"Eden Botanical Gardens," he reads.

"Adam, Eve, and the Garden of Eden," Eve states, "Seems pretty clear to me."

He retrieves the map from his pocket. Unfolding it, he leans up against the window, holding it up to the light. For a few minutes he looks over the map for awhile. After a few minutes, he shakes his head.

"I can't see it here," Adam says.

"No… you wouldn't," Eve replies, "It's not _inside_ Silent Hill. It's just East of the city limits, taking Bachman Road. I went there a couple times as a kid… with my mom and dad."

"I guess that's where we need to go."

Adam walks over to Eve, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I think it's your time to leave this place. Your job here is done."

"Maybe you're right."

Rising from her chair Eve sighs.

"Should we go?" she asks.

"Yeah, I think so."

Adam and Eve grab their jackets, and put them on. They step to the door, Adam opening it as they step outside. They stop in their tracks, looking up at the sky. There is a heavy fog covering the city, and the sky is permeating it with a faint glow. The sky is blood red. The faint glow emanates downward, making it look as though the city is on fire. They stand in awe of this apocalyptic vision. There is an ominous, hellacious vibe to the atmosphere, as though some horrible lies in wait for them. But this end times vision also seems to suggest that a conclusion is approaching. Adam takes this as a validation, though a horrifying one, that something has in fact changed. _We must be near the end. This is rapture. _He reaches over, grabbing Eve's hand.

"Come on," he says, leading her to the staircase.

They reach the bottom of the stairs and cut across the front of the motel. As they pass, they both glance in through the window of the motel reception, each recalling their experiences there. It's the place where Adam had received the crowbar he holds to this day - now tucked in his belt - and where he had first heard the radio static, first saw those androgynous monsters. Eve had received her club there, though she had long abandoned it for her rifle. Once they get around the corner, they take hit the street and start heading North. A heavy fog blankets them and they can scarcely see any farther then ten or twelve feet ahead. They squint into the red fog. Nearing the street, it looks like it always has, but looking upwards it holds a fiery red glow. Adam and Eve exchange no words as they walk onwards, each lost in their own thoughts. Each one wondering if this is in fact the last they will see of Silent Hill, and what they will find in Eden.

Continuing North, they hit Bachman Road, turning right. They continue in an Eastern direction, walking hurriedly. Eventually, they pass the department store, where Eve had come with Maggie, and Adam with Elizabeth. They pass it, Eve turning to watch it as they go. Suddenly, the silence is broken, as Eve's radio begins to crackle. They both look down at the radio, then exchange a glance. They both grip their weapons, looking around themselves. Off in the distance, they hear a rhythmic sound. The sound gets nearer. _Flapping wings._ Adam and Eve turn around looking up into the sky. They see the silhouette of a large, winged figure, descending rapidly towards them. A piercing shriek comes from the monster as it swoops at Adam, who dodges out of the way as its sharp talons reach out to grab him. It ascends rapidly, almost disappearing in the fog, but then circles back descending once more. Eve raises her rifle, pulling back the hammer, and aims up at it. Another piercing shriek as it swoops down on Adam. Eve pulls the trigger. A loud bang and a painful cry as she hits it square in the chest, Adam ducking as it passes over him. It circles back around quickly as Eve takes aim. Bang. As Eve shoots it in the chest, Adam jumps up grabbing the monsters legs. It carries him a few feet and they crash to the ground. Adam grips its legs tightly.

"Eve," he shouts, "kill it!"

Running over to it as it flaps around wildly, Eve raises a boot in the air. She stomps on its head violent. The creature shrieks, jerking around, trying to loose Adam's grip. Eve grunts, stomping on its head once more. It continues to jerk around in agony. Eve boot rises and falls three more times, each blowing warping its head until, finally, blood pooling around its skull, the monster dies. It's body convulses briefly, but then becomes limp and motionless. Panting, Eve steps back from the monster, as Adam releases its legs. With a groan he rises to his feet, dusting himself off, as he looks down on it.

"What the hell is it?" Adam asks. Eve shrugs.

"I've never seen _this_ before."

It's a large creature, the shape of its body resembling that of huge bird, but with large, bat-like wings where the arms would be. Its head is pointed, with a beak, resembling a pterodactyl or some other prehistoric creature. It's beaks is parted open on the ground, broken and warped from Eve's boot, and its tongue hangs out from the side. At the end of its legs, bird-like feet, with long, sharp claws. Its skin is dark grey, with a leathery texture. and a faint purple hue to it. It looks entirely different, and distinctive, from all the creatures they had encountered thus far. Kneeling down, Adam grabs it by one of its ankles, raising its leg, and pressing a finger to the tip of its talon.

"Its claws," Adam observes, "They're as sharp as knives."

"I guess we better be careful then," Eve says soberly.

Adam drops the creature's leg and stands up. Turning to look back at the slain monster as they continue walking East, they slowly quicken their pace. Making their way up the block, an androgyne emerges from the fiery fog, but they easily evade it. At a steady pace, they continue, eventually passing the high school Adam had first visited, this time seeing it from the opposite side. Adam recalls his first encounter with Elizabeth, in the courtyard of the school, the heavy rolling fog parting to reveal this scared, beautiful girl. Her gorgeous blue eyes call him, even now. Checking her map as they trek, Eve verifies that they are on course - six of seven blocks from where they need to go.

They fog thins out slightly as they cross the next block. Eve looks over at the gun store where she had grabbed her rifle, tucked away down one street. The gun store she had stopped at on her way to the cemetery. Where she had the memory of killing that bird, when she was a child. It's a transgression Eve still bares guilt for. A testimony to the arbitrary suffering that human beings inflict upon the innocent and underserving. The next block over and the fog swallows them whole again. Adam waves to Eve, and they break into a jog for awhile. The block passes, and then another. They slow back to a walk. According to Eve's memory, they're almost at the edge of town.

A piercing shriek shatters the silence, and Eve's radio begins to crackle. Adam and Eve grips their weapons, trying to listen in. A second shriek. Eve snaps her head around. The second scream came from a totally different area. _There's two._ Eve pulls the hammer back. They continues walking in the direction they were going, but turn around in circles, looking up into the sky for any sign of those monsters. Adam catches sight of the silhouette of one of them in the fog. It circles around in the distance.

"Eve," Adam whispers.

She looks over. Adam raises an arm, pointing towards the creature in the sky. They look around themselves, trying to find the second as they keep walking. Eve sees, Adam's arm shoot up again, pointing to the South. One of them is due North of them, the other slightly Southwest. The one from the South starts in rapidly, flying lower to the ground, coming at Eve. She takes aim. As it nears, Eve's finger squeezes down on the trigger. Bang. She hits it in the abdomen, then ducks under it as it passes. It swoops upwards, then loops around. Eve pulls back the hammer. It switches targets, coming at Adam. As it flies up to him, as it closes in on him, its legs extended, Eve pulls the trigger again. Bang. She hits it in the wing, as Adam leaps up and grabs it around its waist. He wrestles it to the ground. Eve starts to run towards it, then stops as she sees the other closing in on her. She pulls back the hammer one more. The flying monster lowers to six feet from the ground, as it releases a piercing shriek. It glides towards Eve. She pulls the trigger. Click. _Shit._ At the last moment, Eve tries to duck, but the creature crashes into her, knocking her to the ground. The monster, too, hits the ground, its sharpened talons scratching along the asphalt. On his side, Adam scrambles, climbing atop his enemy. Grabbing his crowbar, he begins striking the monster's head as it squirms and shrieks beneath him. Eve runs towards her opponent, as it flaps its wings trying to get back in the air. She tackles it, landing forcefully on top of it. Pinning it on its chest with her knees, she raises her rifle in the air, striking its head with the rifle's butt. It shrieks in agony as Eve rains down blows. After five vicious collisions, its head splits open and the monster goes limp, convulsing on the street.

Eve pants heavily, sitting back on the monster for a moment to catch her breath.

"Are you okay," Adam calls out to her.

"Yeah," Eve replies, still panting.

"We better keep moving… There could be more."

Taking in a deep breath, Eve rises to her feet. Stepping off the monster she continues walking down the street, moving towards the middle of the road to meet Adam. She pulls a box of rifle bullets from her pocket. Taking six bullets in her hand, she starts loading the rifle, one-by-one. _That leaves me with six more bullets._ They continues down the street, walking slowly through the red fog. A schoolgirl emerges, but the couple evade it, break into a jog until it's out of sight.

Passing through a wall of fog, they come to the end of the road. A massive crater splits the earth, a sign reading "Welcome to Silent Hill" tilts over its edge, on the verge of falling in. Walking to its jagged edge, they look right and left, and then down. It's as though some incredible earthquake has separated Silent Hill from the rest of the world. The tear in the earth's surface seems to run as far as the eye can see, and seems bottomless. Adam and Eve stand motionless, staring down in this vast chasm. Kneeling down, Adam picks up a large chunk of asphalt. Then, standing, he throws the asphalt down into the chasm. As it rapidly falls, it's swallowed up by the fog and disappears from view. They stand there for a long moment, waiting to hear it hit the bottom, but no sound is heard. Adam runs a hand over his face. _It must be hundreds of feet deep… it may even stretch on forever. _Looking across the great divide, they can faintly see the road continue, some twenty feet away.

"Shit," Eve says, kicking a rock into the crevice, "the fuck do we do now?"

"I don't know," Adam says, walking along the jagged edge, looking down into the chasm.

Walking South, Adam looks down, trying to find some way across. As he analyses crevice, his eyes stop on something metallic, stretching across the divide - maybe fifteen or twenty feet below. Walking as close as he can get to it, he sees a corridor, running from one side to the other. He whistles to get Eve's attention, then waves her over. She jogs over to him, and looks down in the direction he is.

"I think we can get across from there," Adam says, pointing down at the corridor.

Eve turns around, looking for some entrance which may lead down there. There are only two building on the block which line up with the corridor. One of which is an apartment complex, the other a small unmarked building, some sort of small utility facility, presumably for water works or electricity.

"Maybe we can get down there from that building," Eve says.

Turning to look at the building Eve has pointed out, Adam nods, and they make there way over to it. It's a small facility, possibly having to do with water or electric utilities; though, it could be another public facility. Its a concrete building with a corrugated iron roof. Walking over to the door of the building, Adam reads the words written across it. _East Wing._ He turns the knob. _Locked._ Contemplating what to do, Adam rubs his chin. But before he has time to think of anything, he's startled by a piercing shriek in the distance. _Another flying monster._ Adam and Eve exchange a knowing, startled glance. Stepping back, Adam lifts his leg and kicks the door. There is a heavy bang, but the door doesn't move. It's an aluminium door and seems fairly weak, heavily rusted, and worn down. Adam kicks it again, leaving a large dent in it. Kicking once more, the frail door breaks inward. Adam and Eve walk inside hurriedly, closing the door behind them. It appears to be some sort of a public building, concerning utilities of some kind. Control panels and typewriters cover desks lined around the room. Papers are scattered about the desktops and floors. Bulletin boards have memos pinned to them. They walk around the room, looking about them for anything of interest. Crossing the room, Eve comes to a door on the opposite side. _Stairwell to East Wing._ Eve turns the knob and the door opens it into a darkened stairwell.

"Adam," Eve calls, "the stairs."

Entering the stairwell, they walk down its concrete steps, turning at each landing, and descending three floor before coming to another door. Eve pushes it open. On the other side, there is a metal corridor leading onwards, some twenty feet. The sides and base of the hallways are bent and warped from the earthquake. They walk forward, cautiously. As they do, their boots make a hollow clang on the floor. They are walking over the chasm, if the corridor should break, they'll fall to their death. Walking slowly, the metal corridor groans heavily. They tread lightly, taking each step cautiously, should they step on a weak spot. Too scared to breathe, they step across the fragile walkway, eventually their boots meet solid ground. On the other side they come to another door. Eve opens it into a stairwell leading upwards. They climb the stairs, roughly three floors and come to a second door. They open it and step into a room resembling the one they had seen on the other side of the chasm. Typewriters, desks, papers, and panels. Seeing a door on the opposite side of the room, they walk to it. Opening they step outside, closing the door behind them. Eve turns to read the door: _East Wing._

Looking across the street, they make out the silhouette of a huge dome. Eve turns to Adam.

"That's Eden," she says, pointing over to it.

"Then that's where we need to go," Adam replies as they make their way towards the massive dome.


	20. Chapter 20: The Garden of Eden

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XX: Chapter 20 takes Adam and Eve through Eden, making their way to their final destination. There are two more chapters coming, I've decided to split them in two, as they will be very long. There will be a final chapter on Sunday (hopefully) then an epilogue on Tuesday.**

**Resident Evil Fanfic: As I polish the last two chapter, I will be starting an RE fanfic. It will feature Leon, Ada, and Helena... So look out for that in the coming days.**

**These are the final chapters of the story. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART. Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XX.**

They walk from the building, in the direction of the dome. Stepping off the sidewalk, onto the street, they cross it, and come up on the opposite sidewalk. A large walkway leads up to the building, with a sign reading: Eden Botanical Gardens. They pass it nearing the building, as they get within ten feet they stop. It is a huge, glass dome, comprised of hundreds of triangular window panes. Clearly it is designed to let in as much light as possible for the plants inside, and preserve humidity, acting as a massive greenhouse. At the front there is a large marble arch, with vines growing over it, and beneath the arch a pair of large, heavy wooden doors. Glancing to overlook it, they hear the sound of one of the flying monsters overhead. Adam and Eve, exchange glances, then hurry over to the door. Fumbling around her pocket for a moment, Eve retrieves the blood-crusted key from her pocket, sliding it into the padlock. She turns it. There is a heavy metallic click - the key works. Leaving the key in the lock, Adam and Eve grab the large doors, pulling them open, then stepping inside.

As the doors bang shut behind them, they find themselves in a small lobby. A pair of speakers are mounted to a wall at the far end of the lobby, playing a recording of rustling leave, chirping birds, and running streams. To their left and right there are gift shops, and straight ahead, a ticket booth. They walk forward, analysing the lobby for anything of interest. The sound of their boots on the marble tiles, reverberate throughout the room. Eventually, they come to the ticket booth at the far end of the lobby. There are doors to their right and left, the one on the left labeled: Exit Only.

"I think we'll cover more ground if we split up," Eve says.

"Good idea. I'll take the right door, you take the left… If we don't cross paths, we'll meet back here."

"Sounds good."

Adam and Eve split off in separate directions. Eve hits the exit door, and pulls it open, stepping into the next room. A wall of warm humid air hits her as she steps into the next room. To her right, a large, artificial waterfall trickles down across some limestone blocks into a basin below. The gentle sound of the waterfall, coupled with the humid air gives the garden a relaxing, serene atmosphere. From the door, a long, cinderblock walk way stretches onward between rows of lush green plants, with sycamore trees hanging overhead. Eve walks forward, passing under them as she looks around for something which may be of interest to them. As she walks onwards, flashes from her childhood run through her mind: holding her father's hand, her mother smiling down on her. Reaching the end, the path turns right, where a small wooden bridge arches over a fake stream. Her boots make dull knocking sounds as she walks over the bridge. As she passes over it, Eve turns her face skyward. The large glass dome arches over her, with hundreds of individual, triangular panes. The red, apocalyptic light shines in through the top, but is obscured in the frosty haze of fog. On the opposite side, to her right, a plot is cleared out, with a life-sized stone stature standing in the middle. It is a robed, bearded man, with a tall, pointed had - resembling the one kind worn by the Pope. He has a tall staff in one hand, and a book in the other. At the base of the statue, an inscription: _St. Augustine._ Eve keeps walking.

A sweet, floral smell fills the air, stirring up childhood memories from Eve's past trips to Eden with her parents. A time when they were a happy family. Before her budding sexuality would tear their family apart. Eve passes a stretch of of lilies. Arranged on her right and left, they come in a variety of colours: pink, violet, white, and blue. She looks over them, admiringly as she continues. From here the path breaks off in two directions, looping around and meeting on the other side. Amid the loop, a pond, with benches arranged around it. More plants on either side of the path. Eve takes the left path, looking down into the pond as she goes. Reaching the opposite side, she continues, passing some tall oaks. Then, on the other side of the oaks, another statue is found. It is a winged knight. With a clean-shaven face, and long hair, he holds a shield in one hand and a sword in the other. Sandals on his feet, he raises one leg, as though preparing to take off in flight. Eve read the inscription at the base: _St. Michael._

The path veers right from here, curving off and leading back in the direction from which Adam would eventually come. After the stature of St. Michael, the path opens up into a large, grassy field. Before then, the path leads between two rows of maple trees, their leaves turning red. Eve passes under them, looking up at the beautiful, crystalline leaves. She walks into the field. In the middle, a huge redwood tree rises up, almost high enough to touch the ceiling of the dome. The trunk is so wide, it would take five or six people - with their arms outstretched - to wrap around it. The field is some twenty feet across, and on either side there are tall rosebushes. One side has red roses, the other white. Across from the tree, a large stone structure stands, gothic in design, with heavy, iron doors. _This is the halfway point. I'll sit here and wait for Adam to get here._ Eve walks over to one of the benches and sits down, crossing her legs at the knees.

An ominous red glow filters in through the ceiling of the dome as Adam walks through and arch made from hedges, roses adorning its surface. The air is humid, and warm. The over head fog gives the room a frosted, reddened atmosphere. Passing the arch there are a variety of cacti on either side of the cinder walkway. This area has a desert theme to it, with neatly raked sand around the base of the cacti. As he walks onwards, Adam looks around himself. Admiring the eclectic collection of plant life, he scrutinises the area, hoping to find something which may be of relevance to their odyssey, but nothing sticks out to him. The path turns left, and a small wooden bridge arches over an artificial stream. A soothing sound of running water emanates forward from it, calming Adam and relieving him of all tension. He crosses over the bridge, his boots knocking on the wood as he goes. Walking onwards, the path branches off to the right and left, looping around a plot of earth. In the middle of the paths, the grass is clear, except a large stone statue. The statue depicts an old, robed man, balding on top. Over his shoulder, a sash with crosses over the left and right breast. In one hand he holds a book, in the other, he holds up a hand with one finger extended. At the bottom, an inscription: _St. Nicholas_.

Adam passes the statue, taking the left path. The cacti pass as the garden transitions into a floral theme. Orchids of varying colours are organised in neat rows, forming a rainbow pattern. He recalls Elizabeth's orchid brooch. Her striking ornament was one of the first things he had noticed. Admiring the orchids, Adam continues, and as he passes them, two artificial waterfalls emerge. One set on each side, they are matched in tall stone walls, forming a corridor around the path. Adam walks between them, they run on for some fifteen feet. They roar with surprising volume. Pouring into a basin below, the form a froth, and a watery haze obscures his vision, stray drop of water landing speckling his jacket. Reaching the end of the waterfalls, the path opens to a circular plot of grass. With benches and flowers organised around, another stone statue is situated in the middle. Adam walks over to the statue. It is a robed man, holding a staff in one hand. With a large sash draped over on shoulder, he looks down on the floor, holding a large medal with a face on it in his free hand. Adam reads the inscription at its base: _St. Jude._

From here the path turns left, heading between an arrangement of pink and purple rhododendron. They fill the air with a sweet smell. Rhododendron were May's favourite flowers, he used to buy them for her on their anniversaries. A melancholic nostalgia sweeps over him as he passes between them. Adam heads onward, eventually coming to a large opening with a huge redwood tree in the middle and tall rosebushes around the enclosure. Analysing the opening, he sees Eve, and walks over to her. As he approaches, she see him. Eve rises from the bench, walking over to meet him.

"Find anything?" Eve asks.

"Nope… You?"

Eve shakes her head. Then turning around she points to the large gothic crypt.

"Except that," She says, "_That_ was not there when I was a kid."

Turning towards it, they walk over to the stone structure. It is roughly cubic in shape, ten feet by ten feet, and maybe twelve feet long. Greek style pillars round each corner of it and it has a triangular roof. It resembles the Parthenon, from ancient Greece; but this structure is dark grey, rather than the tan colour of the Parthenon. Over the surface of the building, images of angels and demons, clouds and fire, are embossed. At the centre, a pair of large, iron doors with circles containing the images of men's faces, four small ones, and one large one in the centre. Beneath the large icon in the middle there is a dial. Adam reads the title over the doors:

"The Tomb Of St. Dominic."

The large circular icon in the centre depicts the face of St. Dominic. Looking over the other, Adam recognises the faces of St. Nicholas - on the bottom left - and St. Jude at the top right. He turns to Eve.

"Did you see any statues on your side?"

"Yeah," Eve replies, "St. Augustine and… St. Michael… the one on the bottom right."

Putting his hand to his chin, Adam looks over the icons for a moment. Reaching over to the top right, he tries to push it in, then to turn it. As he does so, the icon comes out in his hand. _They can be moved._ The one he holds is St. Jude. _Which order did they come in? First… it was Nicholas, then Jude. _ He replaces Jude. Then, taking Michael from the bottom right, he grabs Nicholas, and places it in the bottom right. He hands Michael to Eve.

"Place them in the order you came across them… bottom up."

Eve takes the icon of Michael. Taking Augustine out, he puts it in the bottom left, then Michael in the top left. Nothing happens.

Adam looks over the dial under St. Dominic's icon. It contains four animals. Directly beneath the icon is a cat, then - arrange around the dial in a clockwise fashion - a bird, a dog, then a fish. _St. Dominic was envisioned as being born as a dog._ Adam turns the dial until the dog is directly beneath the icon. As he does so there is metallic click. He exchanges a glance with Eve. Pressing his hands against the doors, her pushes them inward. They groan heavily as they open into a small tomb. As though it had been readied for them, two candles are lit on each side of the room, standing on large, gothic-style, black iron stands. Situated in the middle of the tomb is a coffin, made from marble, with an image of St. Dominic's face embossed on the end. Walking over to it, they look down on the coffin. In the centre of the marble lid, a large cross is engraved. Moving over to its side, Adam and Eve place their hands on the edge of the lid and begin to push it. The lid grinds heavily as it slides over. Pushing the lid over, it falls to the ground on the other side, slamming loudly on the floor. They look down into the coffin. It's empty. The coffin is bottomless, and a long ladder leads down into the darkness.

Adam sighs, looking over at Eve, and then climbs over the edge of the coffin and climbing down the ladder. Letting him get a few feet down the ladder, Eve follows. They descend into the darkness. Their boots clanking against the metal ladder, they slowly climb down the long corridor. They go down, ten, then fifteen feet. The ladder stretches on. Twenty, then twenty five feet. The ladder stretches on. Thirty, then thirty-five feet. They seem to climb down forever. Forty feet pass. Fifty feet. They keep going. Climbing slowly, silently, they wonder just how deep they are descending. Some seventy feet pass by and the ladder keeps going. Minutes pass, and they grow tired, their arms start to ache and burn. Eighty feet. Another few minutes pass, and finally, Adam's feet hit a concrete floor. He is followed shortly by Eve. She shakes out her arms, now on solid ground. They have descended some one hundred feet, deep below the surface of the earth. Turning from the ladder, there is a door directly in front of them. Adam turns the knob. It's open. He pulls the door open. A bright, flickering orange light flows in through the doorway. _Fire._ Adam and Eve squint, their eyes having long adjusted to the darkness into which they have descended. As they adjust to the light, they step through the doorway.

A flickering orange light flows over the pair as the step into a long corridor. It's is a long hallway, made from a meshed metallic grid, enclosing them from all sides like a cage. The metal corridor is thoroughly rusted, with what looks like flames surrounding the corridor from all sides. On the left and right, rows of monsters are pressed up against the grid, their fingers coming through the diamond-shaped spaces. Monsters lie atop the the corridor, and are under the floor, their fingers groping at the grid. Androgynes, nuns, mothers, and schoolgirls, press up against the hall from all sides. Their joints popping and clicking in a thunderous cacophony. Grim terror grips Adam and Eve as they walk forward, stepping on the fingers protruding through the floor. Despite the tunnel of fire surrounding the corridor, the air is uncomfortably warm, but not particularly hot.

Adam takes the lead, walking forward through the long corridor, cautiously looking around himself, expecting the monsters to come through the rusted grid at any moment. Eve follows behind him, clutching her rifle against her chest. The fragile siding bends inwards from the pressure of the monsters. It looks as though it may give way. They stagger a little as they step on the fingers coming through the floor, but currently they seem to pose no real threat. The corridor stretches on for something like thirty feet, before an intersection becomes visible. They walk quickly towards it, concerned that the rusted, brittle walls may give way. As they near the intersection, a faint giggle cuts through the cacophony of crackling joints. A toddler comes around the corner and, seeing Adam, giggles again, smiling through it crooked mouth, it's cleft lip parting as it does so. Holding out its arms he runs towards Adam, his arms outstretched as if he's hoping for a hug.

"What the fuck is that," Adam whispers under his breath.

Stumbling forward on its stubby legs the toddler runs at Adam. Opening its mouth wide open, it exposes two rows of small, sharp teeth. Adam pulls his crowbar from under his belt. As it gets with striking distance, Adam raises the crowbar high over his head. He brings it down with incredible force, the hooked end penetrating the toddlers skull with a wet, cracking sound. A high-pitched squeal escapes the creature. Adam wrenches the crowbar upward, breaking the toddlers face open. Black blood pours out as the toddler falls limply to the ground, its body convulsing violently, then going limp as the blood pours through the holes in the floor, onto the faces of the monsters below. They step over its body, making their way to the intersection. They step into the crossroads, there is a path leading forward, but also two more branching off to the right and left. The floor in the centre of the intersection is a solid, metal platform. Four letters are scrawled across the floor in blood. Adam reads them aloud.

"N,W,S,W… What do you think that means?"

"I have no idea," Eve replies.

They turn left, walking down the next corridor, this one roughly as long as the first. As they make their way down it they see two figures walking to wards them. As they get close, Adam recognises them: _two schoolgirls._ They slow as they approach, and Adam prepares himself for battle. They approach, and as they get nearer, Eve taps Adam on the shoulder.

"Let me take these two," she says, stepping in front of Adam.

Eve walks towards the schoolgirls, raising her rifle as she does so. She stops in place, raising her rifle to look through the sights. She waits patiently, carefully taking aim as they close in on her. The schoolgirls each hold long, shiny knives in their hands, their arms hanging at theirs sides. Their bodies jerk and twitch, and Eve pulls back the hammer. She slowly squeezes the trigger. A thunderous clap, and the first schoolgirl's head explodes, breaking in half down the middle. She pulls back the hammer again, smoke rising from the barrel. She aims at the second schoolgirl, and as it gets within six feet of her, she pulls the trigger. A loud bang, the bullet hits the monster in the centre of the forehead. Leaving a gaping hole in its forehead, black blood squirts out and the monster falls limp. They step over the corpses and continue down the corridor. Their boots trample the fingers of the silent monsters that grip the floor, trying to get through to Adam and Eve. They make it to the next intersection, this one identical to the first. It even has the same four letters scrawled over the floor.

"What the hell," Adam says under his breath.

Eve stands there, looking down at the letters.

"North, West, South, West?" Eve guesses.

"Let's give it a shot," Adam replies.

They take the corridor stretching forward from where they had initially come. This pathway is as long as the previous. And, like the others, monsters press up against the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. Like the others, a fiery red glow shines through the bodies pressed up against the walls. They jog, making their way through the long corridor, before coming to another intersection. This one is identical, just like the previous. The same four letters are scrawled across the floor. Adam looks down on them. _West._ He turns left, heading down the next hall. Jogging down the hall, they see another monster coming their way. It's a nun. It stands in place as though guarding the next intersection, clasping a silver cross in its hands. As they get within fifteen feet of it, Adam breaks into a full sprint. Taking the crowbar in his right hand, he pulls it back over his shoulder. The nun jerks into motion, taking the pointed cross in one hand, holding it in a stabbing gesture. Running up to it, Adam swings, hitting the nun in the side of the head. It falls over sideways, hitting a wall. Raising his boot up, he kicks it down onto its back. Stepping over it, Adam grabs the hooked end with one hand and the shaft with the other, and forcefully drives the forked end into its face. It slides through the nuns skull, passing through the mesh floor. Adam slides it out from its face. He shakes some of the blackened blood from his weapon. They walk past it, coming to the next intersection. Again, identical to all the others.

From here, they turn left, walking down the corridor they presume is represented by the 'S'. The walls are bulging inwards, and the rusted mesh starts to crack. Eve watches them, a knot forming in her stomach. _The walls are going to give in._ They quicken their pace, no monsters down this hall to threaten them. Reaching the intersection, they turn left again. As they do so, Adam turns around, walking backwards as he locks eyes with Eve.

"Here goes nothing," he says.

Eve nods sternly.

Turning back around, Adam walks hurriedly down the corridor. The rusted mesh is cracking al around them. A piece breaks loose, and a nun's arm reaches through, trying to grab at them. Adam and Eve turn sideways, walking around it - out of its reach. Eve looks over the collapsing walls. _I had better be right… The walls are going to collapse at any moment._ Nearing the end of a corridor, they see a mother nearing them. She staggers forth, her swollen belly jiggling with each step. Adam takes a deep breath, wiggling the crowbar in his hand, getting a comfortable grip. Adam takes the crowbar in a batter's grip sidestepping towards the mother. She raises her arm up, gripping a rusty pipe in her hand. She swings at Adam, who jerks back, dodging the blow. He reciprocates, striking the mother in the left temple, leaving a large dent in its skull. He draws the crowbar above his head, and jams the hook into its skull. He jerks the crowbar out, cracking its skull open. The mother falls, landing on its belly, which bursts open, the oily liquid pouring out through the mesh, over the faces of the monsters below. The monster's baby is pinned beneath its mother's corpse, its cries muffled by the corpse lying over top of it. They step over the monster, seeing a door which looks identical to the one they came in from. Slowly, they walk to the door. Drawing in a deep breath, and placing a hand on the knob; and, turning to look at Eve, he exhales. Adam turns the knob. Opening the door, they step into the next room.

It's a small dark room, some six by six feet. It is completely empty, except for two doors on the opposite side. They walk over to them, stopping in front to silently analyse them. Both doors depict a person, turned to face each other. On the right, the door has a large, almost life-size image of a naked man, his face turned to look towards the other door. A fig leaf covers his private parts. Above the door, a name is written in cursive: _Adam._ The other door depicts a naked woman, her face turned to the other door. A fig leaf covers her private parts, and her hair is draped over her breasts. Above the door, her name is also written in cursive: _Eve._

Eve turns to face Adam.

"I guess this is where we part ways," she says softly.

"I guess so."

"Adam…" she continues, "In case we don't see each other again, I'd like to say thank you… for sticking by my side for so long… I didn't think anybody would."

"We will see each other again," Adam responds, "But you're welcome. Thank you for sticking by _my_ side. I don't think I could have got this far without you."

Walking over to Adam, she throws her arms over his shoulders. Adam reciprocates, hugging her closely around her waist. A long moment passes as they stand there in each other's arms. Drawing back slightly, Eve presses her lips against his in a long, modest kiss. They release each other. Walking over to their respective doors, they retrieve their keys, placing them in the keyholes below the knobs and turning them. They open the doors. Before they part ways, they turn to face each other.

"Goodbye, Adam"

"See you, soon."

With that, they step through the doorways.


	21. Chapter 21: Revelations

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Chapter XXI: Chapter 21 wraps up the story, hopefully tying up all loose ends and coming to a gratifying end. There WILL BE AN EPILOGUE. If there is a lot of love for this chapter, I'll try to get the epilogue up within 24 hours. Since we're coming to the end I'd just like to say that, although I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed with the lack of attention and support, I'd love to thank everyone who has supported this story. Your enthusiasm has really touched me.**

**Resident Evil Fanfic: I will be starting an RE fanfic. It will feature Leon, Ada, and Helena... So look out for that in the coming days.**

**These are the final chapters of the story. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART. Support and feedback is greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**XXI.**

As Eve steps through the doorway, her boot lands on grass, snapping a twig beneath her sole. She stands on a trodden path, running through a wooded area. Overhead, a gloomy, grey sky. She walks forward, as the door closes behind her. The woods here are barren, dead leaves are scattered across the ground. _Autumn._ Plastic bags, coffee cups, and other garbage are scattered around the area. She recognises these woods well. _These are the woods near my childhood home… I used to walk this path everyday, right up until the end of high school._ She follows the path onwards, looking around her as she goes, gripping her rifle in her hands. There are no monsters in sight, but there is a sound Eve hasn't heard since she woke up in Silent Hill: _wind_. A sharp, cold arctic breeze whistles through the trees, nipping at her skin. Tree branches rattle with each gust, but otherwise, there is no sound at all. Eve continues. Her boots slide through tall, yellow grass and dead leaves as she walks. A fallen tree cuts across the path. Eve steps over it, continuing on her course. Ten feet pass by, then twenty. Eve freezes, as her eyes catch sight of a small brown object lying in the grass ahead of her. She walks up to it. It's a dead bird, lying on its back with its wings splayed apart. It's the bird Eve had shot as a child. Its torso is torn open, and its insides are scattered around it. She looks down on it for a moment, then continues.

Climbing up a slight incline, Eve comes to the other side. There she find frost over the ground. She walks on through the littered woods. As the path leads onwards, a little snow covers the ground, getting thicker as she advances. The wind gets colder, and blows in more forceful gusts. The season has changed. _Winter._ Eve sees the exit to the wood in the distance. She tramps on through the winding pathway. A small snowflake falls in her line of sight, twisting and swirling in the wind as it falls to the ground. Eve watches it as it falls. Soon after, a few more flakes fall past her, the end of the woods are a few feet ahead of her. Eve exhales, a cloud of condensation rising from her mouth. The snow falls more rapidly, and, as Eve emerges from the woods, the snow begins falling heavily.

She stands before a lake, ten feet from its shore. The banks are muddy and icy, though the water hasn't frozen over. _This is the place where I drowned my baby… My father's baby. I was eighteen years old._ The images of that day flash through Eve's mind. Carrying her baby, wrapped in a bundle, to the water's edge. Her shoes sinking into the icy mud. Her final goodbye, her final apology. She still distinctly remembers its cries as she tossed her baby into the lake. Eve stands there for a moment, looking out at the scenery, wondering what will happen next. As she stands there, staring across the surface of the lake, a pale green light begins to emanate from below. As the light grows brighter and spreads outwards, bubbles begin to rise to the top. The light become more and more intense as the bubbling develops into a rolling boil. The green light grows to a surreal brightness, the waters rising and rolling furiously until, rising through the froth of bubbling water, a black head of hair emerges.

Adam steps through the door, letting it slam closed behind him. He stands in a long corridor, the sides of which are covered with purple, satin drapes. It stretches on for what seems like an eternity. There is no end to this great hall in sight. Peering down the length of the hallway, Adam takes a step forward, then begins walking down it. He had dreamed of this hallway before, since he had arrived in Silent Hill, and now he is destined to find out where it leads. His boots tap on the floor, making a dull, muted sound, as he step-by-step makes his way down the corridor. A nervous feeling grips Adam, and his intuition tells him that this is the end of his journey, that soon he will have to confront his crimes, whatever they are. On he walks. His thoughts turn to Elizabeth. _I won't leave without her. Wherever she is now, as cruelly as I rejected her, she'll return. When she does, I'll make it up to her. I'll show her that she has a great deal to live for, that there is a way out for her._ Images of Elizabeth flash through his mind. Once more he thinks of their first encounter, in the courtyard. He remembers her bowed over him in the school, nursing his head wound. _Such a sweet, innocent girl… What could she have done to deserve this?_

An object comes into view. Through the darkness of the velvet hall, he sees it, lying on the floor. Adam quickens his pace to reach it. Nearing it, he sees it is some white object. _Fabric._ It lies on the floor at Adam's feet. He kneels down and picks it up. Unfolding it, he suddenly drops it, as though it was something he wasn't meant to see. Falling to the floor, a pair of white, cotton panties, with a drop of blood in the centre. Adam steps over them, looking down with a perplexed expression, not quite able to pin down their significance. Looking up, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel. He breaks into a jog. His boots clap through the vacuous silence. The light growing nearer, he quickens into a full run. He sees the shape of the doorway, the end of the hall. Breathlessly, desperately, he runs towards the end of the hall, then passes its threshold into the next room.

Eve looks out at the black head of hair emerging from the water. Slowly it rises, and soon after a face is visible. _Mom._ Her face is bloated and discoloured from being submerged in the lake for so long. She rises, her shoulders, then her chest. One of her breasts is torn open and deflated from the blast of Eve's rifle. Then her waist emerges, as she walks towards the shore. Pieces of flesh are peeling from her body, open sores cover her skin - maggots crawling out from every open wound. Her mother steps out from the lake, to the muddy shore, her feet sinking into the icy soil. Her bloated eyes are swollen shut, but she seems to see Eve in spite of it. A throaty, vile gurgling sound escapes her as she opens her mouth, stretching her lips into a sadistic grin. Maggots and bile pour from her lips as she raises a hand - pointing at Eve as if to accuse her.

"It's time for you to die, whore," Eve's mother growls, gurgling through the bile in her throat.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore," Eve replies, though her voice is shaken.

"Your sins will swallow you."

"You're the sinner… A weak woman, who turned her back on her daughter."

Eve's mother takes a few steps forward, Eve stepping back and gripping her rifle.

"You lured him… tempted my husband with your lascivious demeanour. You tried to take what was mine."

"I didn't want anything, except the love of my parents… And what did you give me? Dad used me - _violated me_ - and you turned your back on me, and let it happen."

"You got what you _asked for_."

Her mother advances on her slowly, as a strip of flesh peels off her side, and hangs from her hip. Eve raises her rifle, looking through its sights, as she pulls back the hammer.

"Stay back!" Eve commands, but her mother takes another step.

Eve pulls the trigger. A thunderous bang ripples through the air, as a bullet hits her mother in the eye, exploding through the back of her head. The left side of her skull shatters in a bloody mess, the left side of her head blown clean off. She staggers backwards, black blood pouring over her face and chest. Regaining her balance, she hurries towards Eve. She opens her mouth wide, hissing as blood and bile spray out from her. Pulling back the hammer once more, Eve hastily re-fires, hitting her mother in the centre of the chest. She slaps the gun away as she wraps her hands around Eve's throat, choking her with incredible strength. Eve gasps and struggles to breathe. Reaching her free hand over, she grabs her mother's wrist, trying to pull her grip loose. With her other hand, Eve draws up the rifle, striking her mother's open head wound with the butt of her rifle. She shrieks in agony, releasing Eve's throat and stepping back pressing a hand to her bloody, open skull. Eve clutches her throat, coughing and gasping. Her mothers swings at her, scratching her face, leaving long bloody tracks across her cheek. Eve presses her rifle against the monsters abdomen. Pulling back the hammer she quickly fires, then dodges backward out of the way of her mother's next swipe. The rotting woman lunges forward at Eve, her arms outstretched to grab her; but Eve raises a leg up and pushes her backwards. Eve raises her rifle, taking aim at her mother's mangled skull. Drawing in a deep breath, she pulls back the hammer.

Eve squeezes the trigger. Another loud bang, and what's left of her mother's mangled skull is completely destroyed, nothing left but her mangled jaw hanging from her open, bloody throat. The headless torso stands in place for a moment, as if suspended by some invisible force. Then, slowly it begins to tilt forward, then falls flat on the ground. _It's dead._ Eve holds the rifle up, frozen in place, looking down at the body in disbelief. Slowly, reality sinks in and her body begins to tremble. Eve drops the rifle in the mud, and presses her hands to her knees, trying not to fall down. She curses under her breath, squeezing her eyes shut as if she is in agonising pain. Light-headed, feeling as though she may faint, Eve draws in deep breaths as she staggers and sways. Her legs tremble beneath her. Tremors run through her body, but she keeps her footing, and slowly the weakness passes and she stands straight once more. She opens her eyes, looking at her mother's body, lying motionless in the mud. But as she looks down on it, a sound cuts through the silence.

"Eve," a gruff male voice calls out to her.

Slowly, she turns her head, then the rest of her body, seeing Dan, standing by the edge of the woods looking across at her. His arms hanging at his sides, he looks at her with a blank expression. Clouds of condensation rising from his mouth as he exhales. Eve shakes her head in disbelief.

"Dan?" she exhales perplexed, taking two steps towards him, "Dan!"

Eve breaks into a run, speeding towards him. She crashes into him, throwing her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. He raises his arms, to hug her, his hands rubbing her back. Eve presses the side of her face against his chest, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Oh, Dan," she exhales, speechless from her trials. But, as she speaks his name, she freezes, and her eyes open, as she comes to a sudden realisation, "… or should I say… _dad_?"

Eve draws back slowly, pulling herself loose from his arms. She looks into his eyes quizzically.

"Dad?" she repeats. He looks at her for a long moment without replying.

"In as much as she's your mother," he replies, nodding towards the corpse lying in the mud.

"How… How could you do that to me?" Eve asks, choking up as she speaks, "to your _daughter_?"

She stares at Dan, with her face conveying a feeling of deep betrayal. She runs a hand through her hair, her lips trembling.

"How can I ever trust anybody again?" a tear rolls down Eve's cheeks, she quickly wipes it away, "I don't understand… I can't even be mad anymore, I just wanted some answers… I just want to make sense of it… How could you do that to your daughter?"

"I can't answer that for you, Evelyn," he replies flatly.

"Well, then who the fuck can?" Eve screams back at him.

She staggers back, feeling faint once more, and places a hand over her face.

"They're still out there…" Eve whispers to herself, "They're still out there, living with each other, in Aberdeen… I have to go back home, don't I? I have to finish this."

Dan nods soberly. She looks back at him, tears falling down her cheeks. As she watches him, he begins to fade away. Slowly, he fades away into thin air, until, he disappears altogether. Eve's body grows weak, and tired, and she staggers back once more. Her legs quaking beneath her, she sways from side to side, trying desperately to stay on her feet. But the weakness overtakes her and she falls onto her back letting out a cry as she hits the mud. Eve's body grows heavy and she finds herself totally paralysed, as a blinding white light envelopes her.

As Adam emerges from the hall, he finds himself in a vast, formless, black expanse. There are no walls or shapes around him of any kind, just empty space. There is no floor of beneath him, but he walks forward as if on solid ground. He steps forward slowly, looking around himself. _Nothing but emptiness._ He takes a few more steps forward, then, turning around, finds that the hall he had come from is now gone, and there is absolutely nothing in sight. He turns back around, heading in no particular direction. Adam freezes. Off in the distance he sees a rectangular object. It's a doorframe, standing solitary, seeming to lead nowhere. As Adam walks towards it, the doorway mirrors his movements - moving towards him. The distance between him and the doorway narrows, until no more than fifteen feet lie between them. Gradually, a hardwood floor materialises beneath him. Then some walls, with windows, until Adam finds himself in an enclosed room. It's his home. Moonlight pours in through the window. It's dark but he can make out everything in the room. Finally, an upright piano materialises next to the doorway, with a pyramidal metronome sitting atop it. As Adam stands there, waiting to see what will happen next, a woman's figure steps into the doorway, her legs are draped in a long, flowing dress. It's nothing more than a silhouette, but he can feel that she is watching him. She steps into the room, into the moonlight, coming into Adam's clear view.

She has long, sandy-blonde hair, high cheekbones and wide, blue eyes. _May._ She stands there as though giving him time to comprehend her appearance. Adam takes a few steps forward and tries to speak, but stumbles on his words. Losing his balance, Adam falls to his knees, looking up at her with a tragic, apologetic expression. She looks down at him without speaking, her head cocked to one side curiously. She wears a long, white wedding dress. Standing just inside the doorway, she waits for Adam to explain himself, implicating him in some terrible crime with her silence.

"I've come back to you, Adam," she says softly.

"Why?" he replies, staring at her with a plaintive expression, "Why is this happening?"

"I've come to convict you," she states, "You must atone for your sins."

"I'm sorry, May… I'm so sorry for failing you."

"How did you fail me?" she says inquisitively.

"What do you mean?"

May's expression changes to one of sympathy and pity. She smiles softly and shakes her head.

"What did you do, Adam?"

He looks down at the floor, trying to decode her cryptic question. He looks up again.

"You killed yourself… And I failed to stop you."

"It's not what you _failed_ to do… I'll ask you again: what did you _do_?"

Adam wracks his memory, trying to make some connection. He knows she is right, that he has committed some crime, but he can't remember what it is. He shakes his head.

"I don't know what your talking about… I can't remember."

"You _can't_ remember," May asks, "or you _don't want_ to remember?"

"Why can't you tell me?"

May shakes her head, taking a step towards him. She's even more beautiful than he remembers. In her long wedding dress, with her hair brushed an styled, with the moonlight pouring over her, she seems to glow with an angelic light.

"Tell me this," she says, "do you remember Dr. Brouning?"

Adam thinks for a moment, then nods.

"What did he tell you?" she asks.

"He…" Adam starts, retrieving that blurry memory, "He said you were sick… That you were displaying symptoms of extreme bipolar disorder, or schizophrenia… That the medications you were taking weren't working… And the symptoms were becoming more severe with time. He said you were becoming unstable. He said… that you may be a danger to yourself… God, I remember how terrified I was. It weighed down on me like an incredible weight."

"And what else did he say?" she asks compassionately, as though she were speaking to a child, trying to jog his memory, "What did he tell you to do?"

"That… if we were going to pull through this… You would need my unwavering support… And I promised to give it."

"Did you?"

"No… I failed you."

"How?"

"I can't remember."

"Then you are not prepared to atone… Then there is no redemption," tears fill her eyes, as she looks at Adam with a loving, compassionate expression, "I'm so sorry, Adam… Your only redemption is death."

May's skin begins to change colour, from a healthy glow, to a pale white complexion. Her lips turn blue and her eyes glaze over, becoming glassy and lifeless. Before Adam's eyes, she turns from a living woman, to an animated corpse. Pain cuts through his heart, watching his wife die once more. She steps towards Adam, her joints popping as she walks. May staggers forward in jerking, unnatural motions. Adam scrambles to his feet, walking backwards.

"Stay back," Adam commands, but she continues to close in on him. He slides the crowbar out from his belt.

"Stay back," he repeats, more forcefully this time, but May continues walking towards him.

Gripping his weapon in both hands, he continues walking backwards, not wanting to hurt this apparition which so closely resembles his deceased wife. As she nears him, Adam swings defensively, not intending to actually strike her. He holds the crowbar back threateningly, but she calls his bluff, continuing her advance.

"I said stay away!" Adam shouts, and feigns another swing.

"You broke your vows, Adam," May says, "you betrayed your wife. It's time for your redemption… You must sacrifice your life."

Taking another step back, Adam suddenly stops. Pausing for a moment, he contemplates her words. He throws the crowbar down at his side. It hits the ground, bouncing with a dull metallic ring. Adam drops his hands at his sides in surrender.

"Fine," he says resolutely, "If I failed you… If I failed my wife, and the only thing which will redeem me is the surrender of my own - than I'm ready to die."

Adam looks at his wife, tears in his eyes. He parts his lips and tries to speak, choking on his words. Then, shaking his head apologetically, he manages to utter his final words.

"I'm sorry, May."

She watches him for a moment, with a curious, inquisitive expression. She waits a moment, to see if he is sincere about his surrender - to see if fear will change his rationale. Adam looks back at her with a scared, resolved, repentant expression. He holds his ground. Slowly, May raises her pale hands up to his throat, her cold fingers wrapping around his neck. Her grip tightens around Adam's neck, but he makes no attempt to fight back. The only thing he does is raise his hands to clutch her wrists - a reflexive motion. Adam cough and gasps, trying to breathe, but her grip only tightens. She lifts him with incredible strength, until nothing but his toes touch the ground. Now Adam can't even gasp, though his hands are still trying to pull hers loose. His vision starts to blur, and his body grows weak. Before him, the room goes dark. His hands lose their grip on her wrists and fall to his sides, a his body goes limp. As he feels his life drifting away, he hears the sound of a gun being cocked. Then - a gunshot. Adam drops to the floor, coughing and gasping violently, as a body falls limply beside him. He rubs his throat struggling to breathe as his vision gradually returns. As his blurred eyesight slowly clears, he sees his wife's body lying dead. A bloody bullet hole in her temple, she is motionless on the floor. He gasps for air a few more times, and then, looking up, he sees the blonde girl in the pleated skirt and blue sweater standing over him, a small revolver in her hand.

"Elizabeth," Adam says coughing.

She stands over him without replying, a wisp of smoke rising from the barrel of her gun. Adam crawls over to May, grabbing her body, staring in horror at the wound in her temple.

"What did you do?" he says in horror, looking up at Elizabeth with tears in his eyes.

"That's not your wife," she replies flatly.

Adam hugs his wife's body tightly, pleading softly. Elizabeth's appearance barely registers with him. He is too stricken by his wife's second death. May's face begins to change once more, the colour returns to her skin, her lips turn to healthy pink. The angelic glow returns. Watching his wife for a moment, he suddenly becomes cognisant of Elizabeth's unexplained appearance. For the first time, a strange feeling comes over him, a suspicion of this mysterious girl.

"Who are you?" Adam asks, looking up at Elizabeth, "_What_ are you?"

"I'm and angel," she replies, pausing, "I'm a demon… I'm a virgin… I'm a whore… I'm whatever you perceive me to be."

Adam releases his wife, gently resting her on the floor. Elizabeth turns her back on him, walking over to the piano at the end of the room. She sits down at the piano. Smoothing out her skirt, she reaches over to the metronome, moving the pendulum. A rhythmic ticking starts, as Elizabeth begins to play. A shot of pain cuts through Adam's heart, as it stirs forth a memory he had repressed.

_Adam walks around the corner, trying to conceal his concern with a smile. He looks down at the pretty, teenage girl seated at the piano with a casual smile. She wears a blue cashmere sweater with an orchid brooch pinned to the breast. Beneath it, a white dress shirt, tucked neatly into a black pleated skirt. Her blonde hair is parted to one side with a silver clip. He sits next to her as she watches him with a curious expression._

"_Okay, Elizabeth, where were we?" he asks casually._

"_Is something wrong with your wife?" she asks, a little embarrassed by her bluntness._

"_No… she's struggling with her painting, that's all."_

_Elizabeth reaches over, place her hand over his and smiling sympathetically. Adam smiles back but pulls his hand away gently._

"_Back to the top," he says._

Adam looks over to the piano, where Elizabeth plays, without paying any attention to him. _Elizabeth was one of my students. I tutored her._ The picture becomes clear for the first time. _As May's mental state degenerated… I looked for some way out, and Elizabeth was there. Pure, innocent, free from any troubles. Her presence was so light, so free._ He looks down at his dead wife, blood congealing around her bullet wound. He raises a hand out and strokes her hair lovingly. There is a flash of lightning, and the sound of a roaring downpour fills the room. Another memory, this one only a few days afterwards. May was away, and Elizabeth had come over for lessons.

_Elizabeth plays the piano next to him. Rehearsing the song they had practiced, she plays it nearly flawlessly, holding the last chord for a long moment as she finishes. Adam turns to her with a proud smile._

"_That's great, you've got it!" he says._

"_Thanks to you," she replies with a smile._

_They exchange eye contact for a long moment, but Adam breaks their glance, looking down at the piano key. A sullen grey light flows in through the window, washing over them. The patter of rain rattling against the window pane. Elizabeth turns to him._

"_What's going on with your wife?" she asks._

"_She's… not well," Adam replies frankly._

"_It seems like it's been really hard on you," she says sincerely, "I can see it on your face… It's really sad. I feel so bad for you."_

"_I love my wife," Adam says quickly, somewhat defensively, "You shouldn't feel bad for me."_

_Adam looks down over Elizabeth's bare legs, neatly folded beneath the piano. Catching himself, he quickly looks away, but Elizabeth notices his glance. It's not the first time she's noticed. She turns slightly, touching her knee to his. Adam doesn't respond, or move away, but sits frozen. Elizabeth raises her hand up, then hesitates, then follows through, placing her hand on Adam's face. He turns to her, looking into her soft blue eyes. Slowly he leans towards her. He grabs her shoulder, kissing Elizabeth softly. A shot of guilt and anxiety cuts through Adam's chest; but, in spite of it, he kisses her a second time._

Adam puts his hand over his face. He squints and furrows his brows with an inward anger. As Elizabeth plays softly on the other side of the room, his memories race back to him.

_He guides Elizabeth up the stairs. She walks ahead of him and they exchange no words. Adam feels light-headed, a panicked nervousness wracks his heart, but he pushes past it, walking up the stairs hurriedly. Making it to the top, they walk down a long hall, for what seems like an eternity, before coming to a door. Adam turns the knob, leading the girl into his bedroom - the bedroom he and his wife share. Taking her over to the bed, he sits her down silently. She swallows nervously, looking back at him as he removes her sweater. Dropping it on the floor, he says nothing as he nervously, mechanically unbuttons her shirt._

Elizabeth continues to play a sullen song on the other side of the room. A sickness overtakes Adam and he has an impulse to push the memories away. He doesn't want to accept responsibility for his actions. He doesn't want to believe it is true. But, gathering himself, he draws in a deep breath and pushes onward.

_Adam and Elizabeth lie in bed next to each other. They're naked, and Elizabeth holds her arms over her breasts modestly. After a long, silent moment, she turns to him as though seeking approval, but Adam stares up at the ceiling with a blank, guilt-stricken expression. Suddenly, he shoots upright, as he hears the distant sounds of an opening door._

Elizabeth finishes her song, and places a hand on the pendulum, stopping the metronome. Turning, she rises from the piano and walks back over to Adam.

"We had sex," he says bluntly, "When my wife was gone… Behind her back."

"But she came back sooner than you expected," Elizabeth finishes.

"We… We got dressed and scrambled downstairs before she noticed, but I could tell from her expression that she knew something was wrong. After you left, I did my best to act natural, but I couldn't hide what we did."

_The storm outside had developed into an apocalyptic roar. The house rumbles with the fall of rain, and explosive thunder. Adam scaled the steps up to his bedroom - as though he was carrying his cross up Calvary - and as her nears the top he hears his wife's unrestrained crying. A lump forms in his throat, as though he knows he's about to confront his infidelity. Coming to the door, a paralysing fear grips him, as he pushes it open. On the other side of the bed, May stands. She cries as though her heart has been totally shattered. As she looks up at him, tears running down her cheeks, she holds a small, silver revolver in one hand, and some unseen object in the other._

"_May," Adam says, his voice shaking with fear, "put down the gun."_

_But she ignores him, looking over at him with an expression conveying some unforgivable betrayal._

"_What did you do?" she asks, her voice cracking._

"_I don't know what you're talking about," Adam replies._

_Raising her hand, she throws an object down on the bed. It rolls across the bed, stopping near the edge. It's a blue and pink, orchid brooch - Elizabeth's brooch._

"_What did you do with that girl?" she asks again, her tone pleading for an explanation that will abate her fears._

_Adam looks up at her and tries to speak, but stammers. He can't think of any lie, and his guilty expression confirms her fears. She pulls back the hammer of the revolver and raises it, pressing the barrel of the gun against her temple. Adam steps forward, throwing out his hands._

"_May, don't!" he shouts._

_She pulls the trigger, a deafening bang rings out, making Adam jump. May's body goes limp, collapsing to the ground._

Covering his eyes with one hand, tears roll down Adam's cheeks. He clenches his teeth, anger and self-hatred gripping his soul. Elizabeth stands over him silently. Cursing under his breath, he looks up at the girl with reddened eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," he says with a pleading expression.

"It's not me you need to apologise to," she replies, smiling sympathetically.

"I always thought of myself as a moral person."

"You are… but you made a mistake."

"I want to apologise to my wife… I wish I could beg for her forgiveness."

"Your wife is dead," Elizabeth says flatly, "But I'm still alive… and I deserve an explanation. I deserve closure."

Adam nods. Elizabeth walks over to him, then drops to her knees. Looking over him with her wide, blue eyes, she raises a hand and places it on the back of his head. Leaning forward, she kisses him softly on the cheek. She sits back, waiting for him to speak.

"Then I'll go find her," Adam says, "Whatever the consequences, I have to face it."

Elizabeth sits on the floor, looking over him with a serene expression. As they lock eyes, she begins to fade away. Adam watches her go, his heart aching as he sees this precious girl disappear before his eyes. As the apparition before him dematerialises, he reaches out to touch her one last time, but Elizabeth disappears. A weakness overtakes Adam. A weariness pulls down on his body and he falls onto his side, facing the body of his wife. With his last ounce of strength, he raises a hand, placing on May's cheek. His vision starts to blur, he manages to speak his final words.

"Goodbye, May," Adam whispers, as he's enveloped by a blinding white light.


	22. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Resident Evil Fanfic: It's now up! Please show some love so I can get this off the ground!**

**Note on the epilogue: I have nothing to say about this, other than "thank you". I have future plans to add a commentary and an alternate ending, but I'll be focusing on my RE fanfic for the next few weeks. Please review, favourite, and follow. This chapter may contain some 'adult themes'. In the event that this story is pulled by FF, I intend to re-post on DEVIANT ART. *Thank You***

* * *

**Epilogue.**

Adam wakes to a blinding white light. He blinks, trying to adjust to the light, but he is rendered totally blind. Taking a few moments to collect himself, he gradually becomes aware of a commotion around him. His eyes slowly focus, and he sees to silhouettes standing over him. One figure is male, the other female. They are talking amongst themselves, looking down on him, but he can't make out the words. The pair speak quickly, with a surprised, frenzied tone. Adam blinks a few times, and, squinting, tries to make out the two figures above him. They move over him with erratic motions, looking over him with curious movements. Adam opens his mouth and tries to speak, but no words come out. He moves his head slightly, and tries to rise, but is too weak to do so. With a herculean effort, Adam manages to speak.

"Am I dead?" he asks groggily.

He hears hushed whispers above him, then the woman grabs his hand, comforting him.

"No," she says with a slight laugh, "thankfully, you're alive."

Adam tries to rise, but the woman places a hand on his chest, keeping him down. He starts to become cognisant of the world around him. Heart monitors beeping, doctors and nurses walking to and fro. He's in a hospital. Fluorescent lights shine overhead, piercing Adam's eyes.

"You have to lie down, sir," the woman says.

"You've been in a car accident," the man says to him soon after, "You've suffered significant head trauma… You've been in a coma for the last twelve hours."

"My wife," Adam mumbles, "is she okay?"

"You were found alone," the doctor replies.

"She…" Adam starts deliriously, "She killed herself."

Adam tries to rise once more, but the doctor and nurse both hold him down.

"I'm so sorry," the nurse says, "But you have to stay in bed until we can determine you're stable enough to get out of bed."

After lying in the hospital bed for an hour or more, and after doctors and nurses come to his bedside, performing a series of tests, he is eventually led into a private room, where he is given a pair of blue hospital pants, and a matching shirt. He's told to keep his hospital bracelet on until he is deemed fit to leave. The hospital staff directs him to the lunchroom where Adam can get a meal, then to return to the ER for a thorough evaluation. Bandages wrapped around his head, he groggily walks over to the lunchroom, which is buzzing with activity. Other in-patients pace around the room, some eating their lunch, others standing in a long line waiting to get their food. Adam walks to the line, standing at the end. He picks up a blue, plastic tray. As the line slowly moves forward, he grabs his meal: soup, mashed potatoes, a packet of crackers, and a bright red apple.

Taking his tray, he walks through the lunchroom, looking for a place to sit. As patients move around the busy cafeteria, he sees an open seat at the end of one table. He heads over to it and takes his seat, next to a thin, pale woman with long black hair. Setting his tray down, Adam proceeds to eat his lunch. His mind turns over the events of the previous day. He recalls his wife's suicide over and over, and his spontaneous sexual affair with the girl he tutored. Though he's hungry, Adam loses his appetite as his past transgressions become clearer to him. After finishing his food, he pushes the tray forward, leaving the apple untouched.

Adam folds his arms, leaning forward on the table, trying to piece together the sequence of events leading up to this. Guilt-stricken, he curses himself. The image of his wife's final moments loop again in his mind. As he sits there, lost in thought, a thin white arm crosses passed him, stopping over his apple.

"Are you gonna eat this?" a raspy, feminine voice asks.

Adam turns to face the woman. With long black hair and fair skin, her pale blue eyes stand out in stark contrast to her complexion. Her high, pronounced cheekbones remind Adam of his wife's.

"No," Adam replies as the woman snatches the apple and bites into it.

One hand holding the apple, her other arm is folded across her chest. Looking over at her for a moment curiously, the woman makes eye contact with him. Stopping suddenly, she decides to speak as if she is embarrassed my her poor manners.

"Eve," she says, putting the apple down on her tray and extended a hand to him.

"Adam," he replies, shaking her hand. Eve laughs.

"I can't imagine that's a coincidence," he says.

"Of course it is," Eve says with a wry, playful grin.

A silence falls over the pair, as Eve takes up the apple again, taking another bite. Sitting quietly, they look out over the lunchroom, watching the other patients buzz around the room. Adam tries to think of something to say, but Eve cuts in first. Turning to him, she looks up at the bandages around his head.

"Looks like you've had an accident," she says inquisitively.

"Yeah," Adam replies, "I crashed my car… I just found out that I've been in a coma since last night."

"Consider yourself lucky," Eve says with a sympathetic smile, "I've been out for a month."

"Jesus. What happened?"

"I… I've made some mistakes."

Adam nods slowly, looking down as he turns his thoughts inward for a moment.

"Yeah… I've made some mistakes, too…" he replies, speaking more to himself than to her, "When I woke up this morning I realised, that I have to own up to them… That I have to confront myself, my mistakes."

They look into each other's eyes for a moment. Not knowing what the other has been through, they implicitly understand that they are coming from the same place.

"I have to go home," Eve says, "I've been running away from the past for too long… But I'm so scared… _terrified…_ of what I need to do."

"I know exactly how you feel," Adam replies with a flat, literal tone.

They suddenly break their glance, looking away nervously. Each one carries some unknown burden, and they both fell as though they understand each other's trials.

"Listen," Adam says, looking back at Eve, leaning in with a sincere, serious expression, "I can't help but feel that we've been through some similar. You need somebody to support you - to do what you have to do - and I need someone to support me… If I could come with you, to your home, and stand by you side… maybe you could do the same for me."

Eve pauses, considering his proposal. She runs a hand through her hair, guiding her bangs away from her face. Slowly, she nods.

"Okay…" she whispers nervously, "If you will help me… If you promise not to _judge_… I'll stand by your side, through whatever it is you're going through - without judgement."

"I can do that," Adam replies.

Something shatters Eve's composure, and her hand begins to tremble. Reaching out, Adam grabs her hand holding it steady, as a display of solidarity and compassion. They lock eyes, each one wearing an expression of sadness and fear; but an immediate, undeniable bond is shared between the two, and through that bond, strength.

**The End.**


	23. Commentary (Contains Spoilers)

**Disclaimer: All copyright content belongs to Konami and its repective owners. This is posted purely for non-profit purposes.**

**Note on Commentary: This is a brief commentary post, meant to clarify and explain my story a little better. We'll go over the characters in a brief summary as well as addressing some of the criticism this story has received. Basically, I just want to extend the life of this story a little longer, as so much work has gone into it. Although the story is finished, support and feedback is _still _greatly appreciated. *Thank You***

* * *

**Commentary (Contains Spoilers)**

**Notes on this Story**: This has been a labour of love. Although this story has received fairly little attention or support, I certainly do appreciate the support it _has_ received. If you are reading this commentary section, I still appreciate any reviews, favs, follows, or pms you send my way. The story is far from perfect, and later on I'll address some criticism I've received. I'd just like to say that this story has been very dear to me, and I appreciate that people have been moved by it. I drew from a lot of personal experiences for SHAE, though I won't go into too great detail in this regard. Hopefully, this section will shed some light on questions I've been asked.

**Silent Hill**: This is an 'Alternate Universe' story. As such, I've made some slight changes to the mythos. For one, Silent Hill was moved to the West Coast - specifically, Washington state. I did this for one reason. I live on the West Coast, and I felt it would be easier to describe if I picked an area I was familiar with. All references to the cult have been removed (although Silent Hill 2 did the same). I took my inspiration, for the most part, from Silent Hill 2, which re-imagined SH as a sort of purgatory. In the spirit of that game, the town takes on a more symbolic than literal significance. My Silent Hill is a place where people who have committed crime _they_ cannot forgive themselves for, go to confront their demons. The people and entities in Silent Hill are separated into three categories:

1.) Damned: These are real people who meet inside the town. Other than Adam and Eve, Maggie and Vince are also among the 'Damned'. This is why, both Adam and Eve can see them.

2.) Ghosts: These are perceptual people, that only the respective individual can see. For Adam, it's Elizabeth; for Eve, it's Dan.

3.) Monsters: The monsters are manifestations of the fears and anxieties of the 'Damned'. They only appear to their respective creators, unless two or more of them are together.

**Characters:**

**Adam O**: Adam is a relatively conservative individual. Although it's never mentioned in the story, he was born in Vancouver, Canada. He is generally an impeccably honest and noble individual. This well-mannered, polite man is modelled after the 'Tragic Hero' - a person who, though otherwise noble - makes some fatal mistake which curses him from that point onward. When her was 20, me moved to Seattle, Washington. There, he met his wife, May, and the two were married soon after. Adam is a Catholic, though he has struggled with his faith throughout his life. He works from home as a piano teachers, working primarily with young student, one of which being Elizabeth. Years into their marriage, May began to display erratic behaviour. As her behaviour became more erratic, she sought therapy and psychological help. Shortly before her death, she was evaluated by a psychiatric physician. Although never officially diagnosed, the doctors believed she either had extreme Bipolar Disorder, or Schizophrenia. After the discovery of Adam's infidelity, she commits suicide.

**Evelyn W**: Eve was born in 1966 (as signified by a '66' tattoo on her hip). Born in Aberdeen, Washington, Eve was raised in an impoverished, working-class home. Eve is modelled after the 'Lost Soul' character type, or, in fan fiction terms, a 'Woobie'. Unlike Adam, she never _initiated_ her problems, they were cause by an external force. But her tragic course resulted in her committing a serious moral transgression. As she reached puberty, a rift was formed in her family. Her father became sexually attracted to his daughter, and her mother blamed her for it. The child of a Protestant home, Eve's mother felt as though her daughter was too sexualised. Eve, however, was an Atheist, as explained in the church scene of 'Part Two'. When she was seventeen, Eve's father began regularly raping her. Eventually, she was impregnated with her father's baby. After its birth - when Eve was eighteen - she through her baby in a lake near her home, then ran away.

**Margaret**: Maggie is 32 at the time of the events in this story. Working as a secretary, she had a sexual affair with her employer (a married man) in part to advance her career, in part because of a dependency on male affection. A beautiful, compassionate woman, Maggie is also of below-average intelligence. She is naive and easily manipulated. Due to her death, the reason she ended up in Silent Hill is never discovered.

**Vince**: Vince is a Wall Street banker. A cynical man, he suffers from extremely low self-esteem. A misogynist and a homophobe, he views the people around him more as objects than as human beings. Due to his death, his entry into Silent Hill is never discovered.

**Elizabeth**: Elizabeth is a little more difficult to discuss. The Elizabeth from Silent Hill is different from the real girl on which she is based. The SH Elizabeth is a manifestation of Adam's perception of the girl. She is an innocent, sweet girl, but a sexually precocious girl, making several sexual advances at Adam throughout the course of the story. The real Elizabeth was a Catholic student, who learned piano under Adam's instruction. Though she is as innocent as Adam thinks, her sexual advances are largely imagined.

**Dan/Eve's Father**: Dan is an imagined manifestation of Eve's father. He reflects her perception of her father. Although never explicitly stated, Dan is larger than the figure on which he's based - as a daughter would perceive her father as being taller than he actually is. Dan is a protective figure, who Eve seeks comfort and validation from. Their sexual encounters are based on Eve's confused sexual relationship with her father.

**Symbolism:**

**Colours**: I used colours extensively in this story. In some occasions they are merely there to give a sense of atmosphere, but most of the time they have symbolic significance. I used purple/violet a lot. It washed over the motel in which they met, it carpeted the church, and it formed a hallway in Adam's dream. In Catholicism, purple is symbolic of martyrdom. Red/scarlet is also used a lot. Maggie wears a scarlet top, and is first seen under burgundy sheets. This symbolises her adultery and sexualised lifestyle. Elizabeth wears a white dress shirt, and underwear. White represents purity and virginity. In fact, Elizabeth's whole outfit is meant to convey youth and innocence. At one point in the story, Adam finds a pair of white panties with a drop of blood in the centre. This represents Elizabeth's loss of virginity to Adam.

**Flowers**: Flowers are found throughout the story. The most significant is Elizabeth's 'orchid brooch'. The orchid closely resemble the female genitalia, and is meant to signify Adam's sexual attraction to the girl (also note that the orchid is pink in the middle). Eve also finds a rose corsage. This has no 'symbolic' significance per se, but is a key indicator to a traumatic incident in her life.

**Religion**: Religious symbols abound. The main reason I chose Catholicism and Atheism as the two character's religions, is because I was raised Catholic and am now an Atheist. His faith being central to his life, Adam's story is particularly crowded with religious references. Most significant are references to Dante's 'Purgatorio'. This book, as well as images referring to it, are indications of the Purgatory-based vision for Silent Hill. The use of St. Dominic is a personal reference: that was my elementary school. St. Cecilia is my sister's high school. 'The Legion Of Mary' was a Catholic group I was once a part of.

**Personal References**: This story is loaded with personal references and inside jokes. Though many of these things are to sensitive to discuss, I'd like to mention a few of value. St. Dominic's is the name of my elementary school. St. Cecilia's is my sisters high school. The Legion Of Mary is a Catholic group I was once a part of. Eve enters Silent Hill on June 9, 1986 - my birthday. Adam enters on July 10, 1986 - my ex-girlfriend's birthday (and, more significantly, the day I started writing). Adam was born and raised in Vancouver, Canada - a city I once lived in. Like Adam, I too am Canadian.

**Literary Influences:**

**Edgar Allen Poe**: Poe's connection is predominantly centred around his story 'The Premature Burial'. As a result of her abuse, Eve has developed claustrophobia. She regularly has nightmares about entombment and burial. Poe's misanthropic vision of human destiny (as described in "The Conqueror Worm") also fit Eve's view of life. According to Poe, mankind was a "Tragedy", thrown into a hostile world filled with pain and terror - a philosophy which fits Eve's lived experiences.

**Lolita**: Vladimir Nabokov's 'Lolita' was a big influence on Adam's story. To summarise as succinctly as possible, the book is about a man who becomes infatuated with a teenage girl. I highly recommend reading the book, or seeing one of the two movies based on it.

**The Trial**: Franz Kafka's 'The Trial' was also a huge influence on this. I was enthralled by this book, and Kafka's abilities as a writer. The aesthetics of 'The Trial' are incredible. Throughout the book, he describes suffocating, claustrophobic environments with such detail that I, as a reader, would actually find myself short of breath while reading it. I tried to bring in the same overpowering atmosphere to SHAE.

**MacBeth**: There was only a passing reference to William Shakespeare's 'Macbeth'. Upon arriving at the motel, Adam tries to wash the blood from his hands but is unable to do so. This was meant to be reminiscent of a similar scene with Lady MacBeth. His inability to was his hands of the blood signifies his guilt over the death of his wife, and his belief that he - in essence - murdered her.

**Silent Hill 2**: As this SH story was modelled quite deliberately off of the masterpiece (SH2), the general mythos is similar. Some of the people there are real, others purely imaginative. I worked in a number of references to Silent Hill games. First, there is the Sunderland Pub, which is a reference to James Sunderland. Second, the Sleepy Meadows Gun Shop, which appears in numerous SH games. Third, the jacket Eve wears through the last half of the story is James Sunderland's.

**Criticism:**

**Grammar**: There are tones of grammatical errors in my stories. I acknowledge this. Unfortunately, grammar is not my strength. Hopefully I can improve this in the future.

**Inconsistencies**: As far as I can tell, there is only one inconsistency. Namely, a Pyramid Head type monster that appears near the end of Part One. It never shows up again. The reason for this, is that I felt the need to work in a PH type final boss, but changed my mind. I wanted to tell _my_ story, and not feel the need to fit some formula, so I abandoned the creature.

**Documents**: A lot of people have told me that there are way too many documents, and that they go on way too long. And there is also little payoff for them. This is totally legitimate. If I were ever to re-write this or revise it, I would definitely shorten all the documents. There is actually and inside joke to this affect. Upon finishing 'The Premature Burial', Eve says "Finally done this shit". That was the last document in the story, and her sentiments matched my own.

**Characters**: This is not so much criticism as it is commentary. My expectation was that people would like Eve the most, then Adam, then Maggie - they are, after all, the three main protagonists. But what I found was that people like Adam and Elizabeth the most. As a result, I worked Elizabeth in a little more than originally intended. She was supposed to have roughly as much screen time as Dan, but since people liked her so much, I ended up making her a more crucial character. On the other hand, a lot of people dislike Eve. It's odd, because she's my favourite character in the story. She has the most distinctive personality, and the most interesting back story.

**Structure**: Many people were somewhat critical of the way the story was structure. Part One is Adam, Part Two is Eve, and in Part Three they're together. I stand by this choice because I feel that it was necessary. Half of their stories are separate, and take place at different time, so it makes sense that they should be individual parts. I also broke up the chronology. Adam's part happens _after_ Eve's, but comes first. The reasoning for this is that Eve's story was so much more sensational, that I thought putting them in order would make the story lull. By putting Adam's first, the story gradually ramps up from one part to the next. This structure also makes it feel more like a trilogy. Adam's story, then a prequel, then a sequel where the two character finally meet. A lot of people said that they forgot a lot of Adam's story by the time her returns, but in my opinion, this only helps convey the sense of lost time one would feel in Silent Hill.

**In Conclusion**: I'm really touched by all the support this story has received. As we speak I am working on a Resident Evil fanfiction which I encourage you to check out. Hopefully the story was entertaining (for all its flaws) and moving as well. I tried to create characters that were realistic, and environments that were engrossing. I intend to return to this story in the future, with an 'Alternate Ending' and a 'Post-Script'. Maybe in the coming years I'll do another SH story as well. Much love to all who have supported this project over the last six months.

- Alex K (March 7, 2013)


End file.
